


The Curse of Tamar

by DrDestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 08, Biblical References, Canon Compliant, Curses, Fanart, Fate, Legends, M/M, Magic, Original Mythology, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-07-11 22:25:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15981773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrDestiel/pseuds/DrDestiel
Summary: Sam is livid. He has never been this furious with Dean. The stunt he pulled to distract him from Benny- using Amelia when Dean knows what she means to him… It was a cruel tactic and Sam wonders what Dean is keeping from him. What happened in Purgatory, why is he so invested in a vampire?Sam casts an ancient spell to reveal what is hidden- and what he uncovers changes everything!Revealing long foretold destinies and proving that no matter how impossible-there are some things that are meant to be.{UPDATES ON WEEKENDS}





	1. Sam Winchester Messes with Magic

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Set right after “Citizen Fang” 8X9 and goes off cannon during “Torn and Frayed” 8x10. Sam never runs into Amelia in Texas and returns to Dean right away.
> 
> !!!!!!!Updates to be posted on Weekends!!!!!!!
> 
> Also...the art is mine, first time using watercolor and hands are tough.

                      

The job in Louisiana had put a strain on the brother’s relationship. Sam was sure he’d never been this angry with Dean. When Dean had sold his soul for Sam- he had been livid, but he could _understand._

 

Dean  _loved_  him, he knew how fierce that love was because it was something that went both ways. Their brotherly bond was forged in the fires of hell itself. Which is why this hurt so much.

 

The hours he had spent speeding to Kermit to  _save_ Amelia had almost killed him.

 

_“Sam, I need your help. Come quick!”_

 

 He had called her over and over. She never answered.

 

 He had thought she was dead, that he had failed her…like he had Madison. Sarah.

And Jess.

 

Sam still loved Amelia, Dean  _knew_  that. How had their relationship gotten so twisted that Dean would do something like this to him? And to save a  _vampire_?  _A monster_.  Sam resolved to find out what the hell was going on with Dean- if it was the last thing he did.

_Maybe he had come back without his soul?_  

_Maybe Benny had some kind of power over Dean from when he had hitched a ride out of Purgatory?_

 

Sam hadn’t been very pleased when he had heard just  _how_  that had worked.  He needed answers. He knew Dean was not going to give it to him, so he would find another way.

They hadn’t really talked to each other since he got back from Texas. There wasn’t much to be said-unless Dean felt like being straight with him and he wasn’t waiting around for hell to freeze over.  Sam had to figure this out before Dean did something reckless.

Dean had refused to give up his ties with Benny, there was a screaming match over the phone during his drive back.

“Dean, it’s him or me- I mean it- this can’t happen again! I will leave!!!”

 “You don’t get it, Sam, he’s the reason I got out of purgatory, he had my back, I’ll have _his_  'til he gives me reason not to!”

“He’s a VAMPIRE, he can’t be trusted!!”

“Oh, ‘cause you’re the expert on trust now?? What he did for me… I owe him Sam!” the last part sounded so desperate it freaked Sam out.

“He just used you to get out Dean, why can’t you see that???”

He had hung up again, realizing that they would never get to an agreement on this. Sam had been convinced something was going on, Dean would never pick anyone, much less a monster, over family!

Over  _Sam_.

 

 

Three days after they had left the Bayou behind them Sam got up early. He got dressed and slipped out of the cabin well before Dean would be waking up. He was determined to get to the bottom of this. He knew what he was planning wasn’t exactly kosher. Magic usually had a price -but Dean needed him. He had researched this spell, found a list of ingredients and instructions and he was determined to complete the ritual as soon as he could.

He set off to find the ingredients he still needed, a few candles and some incense- “Because it wasn’t magic unless you smelled like a hippy after” Dean liked to say. He already had the powdered bone dust, earth from sacred ground, water from a river and then his own blood. Pretty simple as far as spell work goes.

Getting back with coffee – to assuage his own guilt over his clandestine mission- he found Dean lacing up his boots at the edge of his bed. They locked eyes- Dean clearly taken aback by the gesture- his eyes going from Sam’s face to the steaming cups in a silent question. Sam hardened his features when he remembered again thatthey were still fighting. He grunted and placed the coffee on the table and stormed to the bathroom.

 

Splashing cold water over his face he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was still furious with Dean, but he was also worried. Something had changed, something big enough to mess with Dean’s prime directive- “Protect Sam”. Sam understood that Dean was hard-wired to always look out for him, John had raised him to believe that his life was meant for little else. No matter how hard he had tried to make his brother see him as a grown ass man, as a hunter capable of taking care of himself- Dean never wavered in his mission to put Sam above everything else.  _Everyone_  else. Dean had sold his soul for Sam, and now he was putting his relationship with a  _creature_  above theirs. Sam felt cold tendrils of dread pooling in his gut, this was  _wrong_. They had always fought, sure, but Sam always knew Dean would do anything for him. Now he wasn’t sure Dean would pick him over the vampire if it really came down to it.

And that was fucking terrifying.

Dean was on the laptop when he walked back into the room.

_Maybe talking now would go better?_

“Dean…” he began but was cut off by the sound of wet linen flapping in the wind. Wings.

“Hello, Dean…. Sam,” said Cas in his usual gruff voice looking between the two tense hunters. Sam turned to face the angel sighing at the interruption. He thought about asking Cas to leave and come back later, but then he remembered that Cas was in purgatory too. He could ask Cas about Dean and Benny if he got a chance. Maybe the angel would tell him something Dean hadn’t.

“Hey Cas” Sam returned. Dean still only looked at the new arrival, eyebrows arched in question.

“I need your help. The angel Samandriel. He’s been taken.” Cas looked miserable and exhausted which was alarming.

“You mean Alfie, the…the weaner-on-a-stick kid?” asks Dean.

“Yes, yes… I uh, heard his distress call this morning.” Cas said slumping his shoulders a little.

“On what? Angel radio- I thought you shut that down?” Dean asks as he gets up from his seat.

“I turned it back on… my penance is going well. I have uh… been helping people, Dean.” Cas sounded guilt-ridden. Sam could relate, he knew what it felt like to let Dean down, to feel like you had to earn back his trust.

_Welcome to the club Cas- we should get a T-shirt or something-_ he thought wryly. He almost chuckled at the irony of  _him_ not trusting  _Dean_. What’s that saying about tables turning?

 “Well, good for you. Alright. So umm... who snatched Heaven’s most adorable Angel?” Dean asks standing in front of Cas.

“Crowley.” The seriousness of the situation punctuated by Cas’ even lower than normal timbre as he ground out the name of public enemy number one.

“I’m listening,” says Dean, switching to "professional hunter" with the fluidness lent from years of practice.

“Samandriel is being held in the general vicinity of Hastings, Nebraska.” Cas blurts in what sounds like relief.

“General vicinity that’s all you got?" Dean inquiries.

“Yes. That’s why I need your help. It seems this is going to involve… talking to people” Cas sounds miserable again.

“Come on Cas, I thought you were a hunter now?” Dean asks in a fond mixture of mocking and chiding.

“Dean” Sam groans, the angel was clearly distressed and now was not the time to give him crap.

“I thought so too, it seems I lack a certain…” Cas trails off before Dean finishes for him “Skill?”

“What are we looking for?” asks Sam sitting down at the laptop, trying to focus the other two.

 

Cas told them what signs to search for and they have it nailed down to Geneva, Nebraska and started loading the Impala in under an hour. Dean still avoided talking to Sam as much as possible and Sam for his part made little effort to remedy that. He was distracted. He would either have to find a way to sneak off and do the ritual or leave it for the next day.

Dean wanted to stop by Kevin’s first for some “demon bombs” and Sam saw an opening. He suggested they split up- he would start to scour the town looking for possible locations for Crowley’s base. And if he happened to find a location to do the ritual, that would just be- fortuitous. He felt a strange urgency to get to the bottom of this before it bites them in the ass like everything else seems to. Dean and Cas took off and left him the car, he started off for the abandoned warehouse district near the rail yard.

After he established that he is not going to be stumbling onto the King of Hell in this part of town he started thinking about the ritual. He had found it in an old book of Bobby’s, according to the notes in the margin Bobby had used it, successfully, and that was good enough for Sam.

 

It was called  _Ut Revelasti_ , some French sorcerer named Clutѐ had come up with it. It’s supposed to reveal what is hidden. Bobby’s notes included the phrases “Tripping balls, vision-quest” that seems to last “till you get to what you’re after” and notes like “learned a few things I coulda' done without” it made Sam smile ruefully. He could hear Bobby’s voice in his head saying all those things. He wished for probably the millionth time that the old man was still with them- he would probably call Sam an “idjit” for good measure.

His notes also included advice on how to get what you were looking for, for instance, if you wanted to know something specific you could get the person to talk about it and you’d get "flashes of insight", aura’s and emotions from them- rarely coherent thoughts. It was like assuming a clumsy psychics' abilities for a short while. 

And if there is any other spell work around- it would manifest as some kind of symbol indicating the magics’ intention or at least origin. Sam was sure that he would be able to see Benny’s influence all over Dean, he only hoped it gave him enough clues, so he could get rid of it. He read about ancient vampires who were able to manipulate humans with compelling spells and a sort of hypnosis if they had drunk some of their victims’ blood. He wondered what kind of control letting a vampire possess you would give them. He hates Benny just a little more thinking about the creature exploiting his brother.

Sam finds an old office building set off to the side of a large packaging plant that has everything he would need to complete the ritual. He pulls out the leather satchel with the supplies and spreads it out on a rusted metal desk pulling the door shut behind him.

He briefly reconsiders doing this- before the rescue mission, but from what he read it takes a while to set in and he had been in fights in way worse shape than a little high. He could do it, besides Cas would be there. If it got hairy- they were packing an angel of the Lord with some serious juice.

He mixes the dust and sand and pours it in a circle, setting candles all around the perimeter. He lights the incense and sits cross-legged in the middle of the ring. He makes a deep cut on his hand with Ruby’s knife and winces as he mixes the blood with the river water. He anoints his eyelids with the liquid and starts chanting.

_“Levez le rideau, montrez-moi ce que je cherche, révélez-moi ce qui est caché"_

Roughly translated “Pull back the curtain, show me what I seek, reveal unto me that which is hidden”.

He repeats the chant over and over and over. He slips into a trance with unexpected ease. Sometime later he comes back to himself feeling achy all over.

His vision is slightly  _off._  The edges on everything seem sharper like someone put one of those dumb Instagram filters over his eyes. His legs are cramping, and he’s shocked to find he has been chanting for two hours when he looks at his phone- Dean called eight times. He redials immediately as he gets up to get his blood flowing again.

 “Sam! What the fuck??” Dean starts in as soon as Sam has the phone pressed to his ear.

“Sorry Dean, I didn’t have cell service in some of the buildings, I’m fine,” he says the last part before realizing that his brother didn’t ask. It confirms that he’s doing the right thing, Dean’s not himself and hasn’t been since he got back from Purgatory.

“We found Crowley, Alfie isn’t going to last much longer, get your ass over here or we go in without you!” Dean growls and tells Sam where they are outside before hanging up on him.

 

Sam approaches the car wearily not knowing what to expect from the spell. He's surprised to not really see anything obvious, Dean has a slight glow around him – he assumes that’s the “aura” Bobby wrote about seeing on people. It fluctuates and has a kind of pulsating quality to it. The color seems to be gold with some flecks of green around the edges. His second sight fades in and out on the drive. He tries to push his thoughts away and focus on the mission- he could explore his new senses after the angel is safe.

“Where’s Cas?” Sam asks when he notices the back seat is empty.

“He zapped ahead of us, place is Angel-proofed, so he’s waiting for us to take out the warding before he can go in” Dean relays, still sounding pissed off but wanting to get to work.

They pull up to a huge, abandoned warehouse, the place is crawling with mooks and they start cutting thru them stealthily.  Sam notices that the demons all have a black cloud around them- almost like when they smoke out -but it makes a kind of bubble around them-  _some_  are darker than others. He files that away for later consideration.

They destroy the Enochian angel warding sigils as they stumble on them. Killing at least seven demons - before coming to stand in front of a heavy metal door. He assumes it’s Alfie screaming on the other side of it and the sound has a sharp edge to it that hurts Sam’s head, and he squints. It doesn’t seem to be affecting Dean as he calls for Cass to join them. Sam’s new sense is still fading in and out, some demons were hard to look at with huge oily tendrils flaring around them and then others didn’t have anything.

Sam is briefly aware that Cas is glowing too- pulsing a bright blue that hurts his eyes, so he looks away. There’s something else surrounding Cas too- he can’t quite look directly at the light, so it eludes him and then the sense falls away again. There’s another scream. Sam can sense the pain coming from Cas now too, it’s almost physical and he has a hard time staying upright. It’s like Cas is mirroring Alfie’s pain back to him giving Sam a double dose of it every time his new ability kicks in.

Flashes of a woman's voice and the feeling of pokers sticking right into his skull almost has him falling back on his ass- he manages to steady himself on the wall. Dean and Cas didn’t seem to notice- which is good they don’t have time for questions. That doesn’t mean Sam doesn’t have any.

_Is he seeing what’s happening on the other side of the wall? Who is the short-haired woman in the business suit?_

“Cas, hey are you ok?” Sam asks when he notices the angel wince in pain and breathing harshly, his eyes are huge and frightened looking. The light that surrounded him is dull now and pulsing a deep blue- almost black.

“It must be the sigils; I am not at full power” Cas almost groans out, clearly in agony.

“Sam help me muss this crud… “: Dean starts sternly, and Sam senses anguish coming from his brother that takes him by surprise with its intensity.

“No!!!” Cas interrupts. “Wait! There’s no time, Samandriel won’t last much longer”

 

Dean’s aura flashes brightly and extends in the direction of Cas almost delicately reaching for the pulsing indigo of the other man. Sam is briefly awash in an intense emotion- one he can’t place in its’ short duration and it makes him frown. Despite the tender play of Dean’s strange shadow, he’s gruff when he yells at Sam to help him break the door down.

A few seconds later they get through. It felt like hours with the sounds coming from Alfie- and Cas’ heavy breathing and grunts at their back. They dispatch a demon who had claimed to know valuable information- they have  _never_  heard that one before. Crowley gets away as  _usual_ \- Sam really wonders sometimes why they haven’t ganked that asshole yet- he has his uses, but Sam doesn’t think he’s worth the trouble. Not when he sees the condition Alfie is in. The angel looks terrible- he pulses pain and utter horror and Sam’s new senses nearly overwhelm him, he has a hard time keeping his face controlled and his breakfast from coming up.

 

Cas zaps Alfie away as soon as he gets inside and Sam sighs in relief.

He doesn’t see the woman anywhere.

_She must have gotten away with Crowley?_

The brothers make their way out of the complex- the slow way- and when they reach the Impala they walk up to a blood-soaked Cas cradling a very obviously dead Alfie in his arms. Sam’s powers faded out again on the way over and he wonders what a dead body would have given off before shaking off the morose thought.

“What happened?” Dean asks looking at Cas.

“He was compromised, he attacked me, and I had to defend myself”: Cas answers in a strange, robotic tone with a far-off look in his eyes. He doesn’t even return the stare from Dean. He  _always_  stares back.

 

A spike of ice shoots down Sam's spine, maybe he has been worried about the wrong Winchester. 

Dean has been saying he's concerned about Cas, but Sam was distracted by the whole vampire situation and had blown it off.  

“I have to take him to heaven…” Cas’ keeps mumbling on and before they can say anything he poofs out of view.

“Son of a bitch” Dean breathes out as he slides into the driver’s seat.

Sam gets in and steels himself for the task at hand, getting to the bottom of the Benny thing. Then he will worry about their Angel friend.

Its’ gonna be a long night he thinks, and he feels Dean’s frustration rolling through the car. Even without his new senses, he would have picked up on that but now it’s enough to make Sam roll his eyes and sigh in irritation. Dean can sulk with the best of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave some encouragement if you liked it- keeping up with a publishing schedule when you still have life to contend with is tough!


	2. Sam Winchester starts Seeing Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a day late I apologize, I am almost done with the next chapter and I was trying to post both on the same day but alas. Here is a short chapter hopefully to be followed by a longer one soon.

The first 30 miles turns into a silent game of “I am not breaking first” where neither brother says anything. Sam’s trying to figure out his next move. He knows that the spell is still settling- Bobby’s notes made it sound like he would be ready to go after a good night’s rest. He doesn’t want to broach the subject too prematurely and risk Dean shutting him down before he’s at a hundred percent.

 Sam’s close to deciding on a course of action when Dean clears his throat in the universal- I- am about-to-break-the-silence-gesture.

“So, what do you think’s up with Cas? “he almost mumbles.

“I don’t know- you know him better. Was he like that in purgatory?” Sam’s aware that Cas is acting odd- even for Cas. And given that he spent more than a year in a hell dimension being hunted down and they still had no idea how he got back- a little extra weirdness was almost expected.

Dean’s aura flashes a pinkish hue and he gets a sense of embarrassment mixed with worry from his brother.  _Weird, what is that about?_   He’s so perplexed by what he sensed that he almost misses Dean’s response.

“Whatever. And no man, I don’t know. I don’t think so, but we didn’t exactly have time to make s’mores around the campfire and talk about our feelings. It was _all_ survival, _all_ the time.” Dean says with a far-off look stealing his features.

Sam gets a flash- bits, and pieces of what he thinks is Dean fighting a Leviathan. And with it comes a feeling of such savage concern that it strips the breath from his lungs and he gasps. It earns him a puzzled look from his brother.

Sam makes a non-committal kind of expression as he tries to recover and make sense of what Dean was  _so anxious_  about. He gets that purgatory was a royal showdown between all the things that go bump in the night. And that his brothers’ unlikely band was caught in the crossfires- but something about that feeling he got made him think it wasn’t concern for  _himself_. Dean never worries about himself, it’s always Sam, or Bobby or Cas … _or Benny?_

 

_Oh God was Dean feeling that worried for the bloodsucker???_  

 

Dean is treating the guy like…like  _family_. Sam is not okay with that.

_How can Dean be so blind?_

 

His subconscious helpfully offers up a memory of himself picking Ruby over Dean and he pushes down the guilt. That was different- she was feeding him demon juice, he wasn’t himself, besides he did it to help Dean.  _Could Benny have put a similar kind of whammy on Dean_?  _Maybe when he rode Dean out some bond formed_? But that doesn’t explain why Dean was so worried about him in that memory.

Sam mulls the possibilities over for the rest of the ride to their next no-tell-motel. He also stares at Dean with his new eyes for any kind of sign – a spell, a stain, a binding, anything really.

He wasn’t expecting a huge neon sign that declared “I am under some vampires’ glamor” or anything but he isn’t seeing anything yet and it’s a little disappointing.

Dean gave Sam a few “What is your deal?” looks after they had fallen back into silence but hadn’t said anything to him since. Sam figures Dean’s letting him “stew in his juices”.

All he got from Dean was subtle changes in the color around him and some random Metallica lyrics for the last two hours.

They pull up to the front desk and Sam waits as Dean goes to book them a room.

They unload their crap for the night and Dean heads out for food, rolling his eyes at Sam for asking for a salad. At least some things are still the same.

Sam looks up the spell in Bobby’s book to make sure he isn’t missing anything- and to double check that it  _will_  last until he finds what he is looking for.

An hour later Dean walks back in with a slightly less dazed looking Cas. The angel is carrying the food while Dean has half a liquor store in his arms. Sam glances up briefly- a little annoyed- he didn’t want any distractions while he studied Dean some more. Then something catches his eye- Dean’s light show is brighter- pulsing slightly, and Cas’s own white-blue glow is pulsing in time with his brothers’.

_What is that about?_

He’s mesmerized by the throbbing light, the rhythmic flaring, colors blending slightly with each other at the edges. He remembers going to a paint and wine event with Jess where they painted a still life of the Bay. He thinks it looks like the watercolors did when they mixed and it’s fascinating.  He snaps his gaping mouth closed and brings his eyebrows down from his hairline when he realizes the two are staring back at him and they are apparently saying something.

“Sam??? Earth to Sam???” Dean says waving his hand in front of his face.

Cas just does that head cocking thing that makes him look like a bird.

“Oh what, sorry? “Sam finally manages.

“Dude, what is up with you? You have been giving me the queer eye all day and now you are staring at me like I have a tail or something. What gives?” Dean asks.

“Nothing, I just have a lot on my mind. It’s nothing. Did you get me a salad?” He knows Dean will take the bait and say something about his dietary choices. It's a surefire subject changer.

“Yeah, I have the food you hippy,” Dean says, putting his bags next to Cas’ on the table.

Cas is still giving Sam that  _look_.

“Hey, Cas. You ok? “Sam tries to break the angel’s concentration. He isn’t sure if the ritual is something that Cas would be able to pick up on- the way he is scrutinizing him he’s almost sure he knows something is up.

“Yes, thank you, Sam. It was a sad day for heaven, Samandriel was a good soldier.” He sounds like the old Cas- but something tugs at Sam’s instincts insisting that he’s not.  

They settle around the Formica dinner set and Dean starts in on his burger with extra bacon and cheese and the wave of  _absolute pleasure_  he gives off makes Sam feel  _very_  uncomfortable. He knew Dean loved greasy food but that was just  _wrong!_  The borderline sexual moan Dean usually makes turns out to be just the tip of the iceberg.

Sam almost inhales a piece of lettuce and coughs awkwardly for a minute or two to regain his composure. Dean quirks an eyebrow at him while chewing loudly.

Cas is observing them in silence and then he reaches out and takes a fry form Dean’s wrapper. Sam readies himself for some exaggerated territorial reaction from his brother- he does  _not_  share food. He figures he’d get a flash or feeling at least since his brother is currently imitating a chipmunk and can’t speak. But Dean flashes that same pinkish hue and it pulses out to Cas'- and Sam gets a sense of  _contentment_ prickling through his mind. He drops his fork.

_What is going on? Dean is definitely NOT himself_.

Sam’s analytical mind proposes an experiment. He reaches across and takes a fry for himself.

Dean slaps at his hand, gulps down his food so he can talk “Hey Samantha if you want people food-get your own!”

Deans’ light-show flashes purple and Sam senses annoyance.

Okay, that was  _not_ what Sam was expecting, in the way that it was  _exactly_ what he would expect from Dean.

He spends the rest of dinner surreptitiously staring at the two men for any signs of outside influence.  _Maybe Cas is under some kind of whammy too? Maybe they encountered a witch in purgatory? Did they drink the water there?_  There had to be something he was missing. He wishes his power was focused already.

Before Dean finishes his pie and third beer Cas abruptly says goodnight and zaps to wherever it is that he goes when he isn’t with them. Sam gets a sense  _loss_ from Dean and his light show seems to dim a little once the angel is gone. Sam also thinks he saw a strange glow tug on Cas before he disappeared, and it makes him feel uneasy.

This is officially weirding Sam out. 

 

They hit up the dive bar across the street after eating and Dean has a few too many shots of whiskey. The waitress tries to get Dean to stick around till she gets off, but he tells her he has an early morning and leaves her a nice tip instead of his phone number. Sam adds that to the list of “Dean acting unusual” that he has been making is his head.

His new sense was dulled by the crowd and loud music blasting over the speakers. He had tried to get a read on Dean, but his light never even changed when he interacted with the woman. It was almost like he was looking through her. And she was a stunner, long dark hair and full breasts that were trying to bust out of her tight shirt. Even Sam had caught himself staring- he’s only human. Usually, Dean would be all over her.

Sam had adjusted to the extra clues to Dean’s thoughts and feelings rather quickly and has figured out that the light changes with Dean’s mood even when his face remains blank. He has yet to figure out what the colors represent. But he could get used to it- dealing with an emotionally repressed brother every day gets old.  

They walk across the parking lot in silence and go through their well-practiced nightly routine. Dean passes out almost instantly and his snoring is familiar background as Sam stares at the ceiling for a good hour thinking over everything he has learned so far. He is surer than ever that something is wrong with Dean but now he is worried about Cas too. That strange tug the Angel got could just be heaven calling but he could swear that Cas was scared in that split second. He doesn’t think that has anything to do with Benny, so he moves it down on his list of priorities.

Sleep comes faster than he expected, and his dreams are filled with colors and a strange ethereal line stretching back through time. There is a beautiful woman at the end of it with the saddest eyes he has ever seen. He wakes up feeling like something important is about to happen and he doesn’t like it.

That is never good in his experience.


	3. Sam Winchester gets more than he bargained for

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here is the next one- as promised. Two in one day!  
> I might even get to a third, have had a slow day at the hospital and if I get off soon I might be able to finish another. This is all very un-edited so I apologize for any errors!

The next morning, they head out early, Sam got a call before dawn from a hunter they know in Minnesota who needed a ghost taken care of while he was laid up with a broken femur. Courtesy of said ghost.

They were making their way back to Rufus’s cabin anyway and it’s only a 45 min detour. They know the name of the ghost and where he is buried- they just need to dig him up and salt and burn the sucker before heading back to their temporary home base.

The spell is in full swing and Sam has been getting an almost constant stream of information from Dean. He really needs to get to the bottom of things- the sooner the better. Being able to hear his brother go through his morning routine of “cleaning the pipes” is nothing compared to feeling his emotions as he does it. It's all very nonspecific- _thank God_ \- thoughts and images of soft pink lips and tanned skin that hit him from out of nowhere while he was drinking his first cup of coffee.

He almost choked.

He tried to push the mental images away which he was mildly successful at to his great relief. The emotions he had to just weather. He expected the usual- lust driven feelings of pleasure and they were there- _uncomfortably_  so. But what surprised him was an undertone of shame or guilt? He didn’t expect Dean to feel anything like that after years and years of shared living space.  _Was Dean feeling bad about jerking off with his little brother in the next room?_

That was not possible.

Dean has never exhibited shame of any kind when it came to sex. He has brought countless women back to the room regardless of whether Sam was there or not. He has stormed out and gotten his own room or slept in the back seat of the Impala more times than he cares to remember. Dean has even groped a chick in the back seat while their Dad was driving her home from one of their successful werewolf hunts when he was 17.

He is so distracted by the undertone of self-accusation that he almost misses the soft tender feeling just below the surface. Dean’s mind bursts forth and broadcasts a blurry picture of his fingers gripping dark hair and blue eyes staring up at him and an almost violent feeling of bliss- then Sam has to stop himself from throwing up as he gets to _feel_ his brother tip over the edge.

_Eeeewww_  his mind keeps chanting as he splashes cold water over his face at the kitchen sink.  _This was such a bad idea_. They are already way too close as it is but there are some things he really doesn’t want to know about Dean. What he feels like having an orgasm wasn't even on the list- it is now.

When Dean saunters out of the bathroom radiating satisfaction, Sam has to keep from gagging on his oatmeal.

They are only three hours out from Egan and he isn’t sure if he wants to be all-seeing around an angry spirit- who knows what that will be like. So, he figures if he can get the truth from his brother before they get there it will be perfect. Anything to clear the air between them, he can’t handle the tension and secrets anymore. He knocks back his whiskey laced coffee- cause yeah; he needs some hunters’ helper for this conversation- he's had a rough morning.

“Have you heard from Benny?” Sam dives right in while focusing all his senses on Dean for his reaction.

“What? No, why?” Dean takes his eyes off I-29 for a beat looking at Sam and then adds “Really Sam- this again?” His aura is swirling a little- getting darker and it bristles? That is the best way Sam can explain what he senses from him at least.

“Just wondering how much you talk to your boyfriend is all? “Sam pokes the bear because he needs a stronger reaction to get to the quick of this situation.

“Real mature. Are you still mad about me sticking up for him- or are you actually jealous? “Dean barks. His colors flare a little- all kinds of hues pulsing and swirling. He is emitting intense annoyance at Sam.

“Sorry, Dean I just don’t get it- what could possibly make you so loyal to the guy- explain it to me and maybe I can let it go? “Sam tries to implore but it comes out a little more sarcastic than he intended. Dammit, he is still furious over this whole situation. He needs to reign back his own feelings, so he can sort through Dean’s.

“You’ll never get it if you still don’t.” Dean shoots his way, he is holding steady with the irritation and there is another emotion threatening to make itself known but he can’t parse it out yet.

“Help me understand, he had your back, I get that. He told you about the way out…but he is a vampire and he is top-side and unchaperoned! How can you trust that he isn’t drinking from the source? “Sam tries again. Trying to focus Dean on Benny, the more he can get him to concentrate on the guy the more Sam will be able to learn.

Dean just sighs in exasperation and his colors swirl wildly, making it hard for Sam to focus on his brother. The light changes colors in rapid succession and flares unpredictably until it seems to settle. Dean surges a sense of indebtedness when he pictures Benny. It’s a bone-deep sense of gratitude that Sam isn’t sure he’s even capable of.

“Dean… what happened that makes you trust him so implicitly, tell me? “Sam keeps prodding, speaking softer now, still in awe of the rawness that accompanies the thankfulness Dean is sending out.

Suddenly Dean is thinking about Castiel. He’s as clear as day in Sam’s mind. He watches as Dean walks up to Cas on the banks of a river, Dean’s hand brushes the beard on the angel’s face. They are both covered in filth and look exhausted, but they smile softly at each other.

Like they tend to do.

Dean just thinks _“Cas_.”

It’s almost a prayer, filled with veneration and awe

Sam blinks and frowns.  _What about Cas? What is Dean not telling him?_  Dean just rubs his hand over his face in that way he does when he's thinking.

“Dean…” Sam says and he makes his “puppy dog eyes” at his older brother. He brings those out in these kinds of situations- he knows Dean’s weaknesses.

“Sam, we’ve been over this. The guy saved my life, that might not mean anything to you – but it’s a little detail I am partial too.” Dean shoots at his brother.

His features scream of brisk irritation and finality. But his light is still soft and radiant, he is still sending out emotions that are doing more to confuse Sam than help at this point.

Sam gets another mental-movie- clip. Cas again, accompanied by a devastating sense of terror and powerlessness as Sam sees through Dean’s eyes- a Leviathan pinning the angel to the ground- poised for the kill. Then Sam is flooded with the purest sense of relief and joy when Benny steps up and beheads the creature.

Sam fails completely at concealing his reaction from Dean- whose light flashed the deepest darkest red for an instant at the memory of that moment when Cas  _didn’t die_. He’s a little light headed and looks away from Dean. He stares at the highway to keep from shaking at the sheer magnitude of …of …  _what is that_  coming from the eldest Winchester?

Dean is talking to him. He is faintly aware, but no words are reaching his brain, he just sits there in the aftershock of so much feeling and tries to regain his composure. Apparently, Dean is a deep well full of closely guarded overwhelming emotions.

Sam didn’t know someone _could_  feel that much.

_Are his own emotions dulled by the taint of Azazel’s blood or is Dean different? Dean who raised him, who put him first at every turn, who died for him. Does he simply feel more?_

After a minute or two things start to come into focus again and he realizes Dean is looking worried and has his right hand on his shoulders saying his name over and over. They are pulled over onto the shoulder. Dean’s colors are swirling again, and Sam faintly thinks that must be a sign of confusion?

“Sammy, Sammy hey Sam…talk to me??” Dean gently asks, Sam starts to blink.

“I’m ok. I’m ok.” Is all Sam finally gets out.

“Like hell you are!! You just checked out and lost your breath and turned red for no apparent reason. What the fuck is going on? Are you sick?” Dean bellows.

Dean takes hold of Sam’s face and tries to get him to open his mouth, so he can look down his throat.

Sam wrests himself free of his overprotective brother and is about to ask him a million questions when he hears flapping.

Then Cas is there.

Sam squints and watches Dean’s light reach in the angel’s direction almost immediately. Castiel’s glow reaches right back.

_What the actual hell is going on?_

“Sam, are you alright? “Cas blurts out and starts taking Sam’s temperature?

Sam reaches up and swipes Cas’ hand off his forehead. _When did he get two mothers?_

“Yeah, Cas I’m fine- why are you here?” he lets out before he can stop himself, he feels like he was about to make a monumental breakthrough with Dean and then they got interrupted.

“I called him when you went all space cadet on me” Dean nearly barks, his usual sequence of “worry followed by faked irritation to cover his relief” in full swing.

Sam tries not to glare at the back-seat occupant but notices what looks like a thin black wire coming from Cas’ angelic aura going up through the ceiling and out of sight.

_Is that Angel Radio’s antennae?_

FOCUS SAM he tells himself.

Dean has Cas scan him for any “system errors” before he is satisfied that his little brother is in fact, not dying.

Sam knows he is going to have to make up something about his odd behavior and decides that “Just tired, I haven’t exactly gotten much sleep since Texas” should hold for a while. He added the last part as a reminder to Dean that he is still not letting that go and as an effective block on any further discussion Dean might have wanted to have along the lines of “Sam’s condition”.

Dean seems to be a little flustered- his colors swirling but again brighter somehow- Sam decides that it’s got something to do with the angels’ presence. He reluctantly realizes that he has to table that inquiry for now- they are just outside the town limits and they have work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me if you are liking it- or hating it? It is the most ambitious story I have ever attempted and if it's already lame let me know before I get to chapter 30!


	4. Sam Winchester finds something new to worry about

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the weekly update- a little short since the hospital has been crazy!

The case turns out to be a little more difficult than Jim had made it out to be. The ghost was actually two ghosts and it took a while to ID the mystery guest. They were brothers-in-law who hated each other’s guts in life and seemed determined to keep the feud going from the great beyond.

Sam was dismayed to discover that his new senses included the dead. He had a hard time keeping the rage at bay. The spirits were angry- and Sam’s brain was marinating in it. It didn’t help that he and his brother had started at “pissed off” before they even pulled into town. He felt like his blood was on fire and his temper had a hairpin trigger.

They had just taken out the original ghost- Dave Gordon and were currently locating Gavin Roe’s final resting place when things took a turn - in typical Winchester fashion.

Sam was leading the way, increasingly irritated with the timing of the case and wanting it to be over. Dean and Cas were bringing up the rear carrying the shovels. Sam had a duffle slung over his shoulder filled with salt and lighter fluid and he carried Dean's old sawed-off, loaded with rock salt shells. The headstone was where the map had indicated it would be and Sam set about clearing the long-dead flower arrangements from the topsoil, so they could start digging when Mr. Roe made an appearance.

The spirit flung Sam clear across the plot and he landed with a hard thud against a particularly extravagant headstone. As he was struggling to get his legs under himself again he looked up in time to see the spirit choking Dean with his pale dead hands. Sam yelled at Cas to help him and then something  _bizarre_  happened.

And in his line of work he used that word sparingly. 

As Sam watched that ethereal chain, not antennae- he’d been noticing in more detail over the last few hours- around Cas’ spectral form got yanked tight. And that same look of fear crossed the angel’s features- before he suddenly went slack and popped out of existence. He thought he heard Cas cry out for Dean, but he wasn’t sure. Then it got  _weirder_.

 

Everything else just  _stopped_. Like someone had hit the pause button. The ghost and Dean were frozen were they stood under a large oak tree. The tree had been weaving through the brisk night breeze just a second ago but was completely dormant now. Sam realized at that moment that he couldn’t move either. He was like the mosquito stuck in amber, except he was conscious. He tried to speak but nothing happened, then he realized with a mix of abject horror and fascination that he wasn’t breathing either. He didn’t need to. He couldn’t move his eyes - so he was restricted to what was already in his field of view. He took in the leaves- suspended mid-air from their lazy tumble towards the ground. The wind had stopped and not a sound could be heard.

 

Sam started counting in his head…one Mississippi, two Mississippi …when he had counted out roughly 4 minutes the world abruptly started back up  _in the exact_  moment Castiel popped back in. The world moved on as if nothing happened and no one else seemed to have noticed at all. Cas continued his previously aborted movement towards Dean. He succeeded in freeing him from the death-grip the late Gavin had around Dean’s throat.

 

Sam was paralyzed, for a completely new reason and failed to help in any way. His mind was racing with questions and theories.

_What the hell had just happened?_

He felt like he was having a mental break or that he ate some special mushrooms- like that one time in high school when he accidentally did just that. When he spent the whole night talking to a mermaid in the bathtub that turned out to be a koi fish in some doctor’s pond. The man had called the cops and Sam had to run- if John ever found out he had let his guard down like that, there would have been hell to pay.

He stared at Cas and watched as he flicked the lighter into the open grave sending Mr.Roe off to wherever dead spirits go. There was an incredible flash that seemed to dispel the dark from the whole graveyard. And Sam could see two Reapers standing at the edge of the cemetery, watchful sentries waiting for the spirit to find peace. The spectacle was a lot to absorb with his new sensorium. It almost distracted him from noticing that the connection between Cas and -what he could only assume to be heaven- looked more substantial than it did before and was throbbing in a deep inky black. The same kind of black he had seen around the demons at the warehouse. His gut roiled at that realization and he felt a strong urge to sever it. It gave off a darkness that had nothing to do with the color.

Cas walked over to Dean and helped him up from where he was still sprawled on the lawn coughing and wheezing. Sam was giving his full attention to Cas and his aura. The color was back to bright white-blue light and it was doing its usual straining towards Dean. The chain around him was restricting its movement and seemed to be holding Cas back from interacting with Dean.

_Sam wondered if Cas ever strained towards him or if that was a Dean and Cas thing?_

_Like the staring._

He had been disappointed to discover that he could not see anything around himself but suspected that if you needed this kind of magic for introspection – you might be beyond help.

Sam watched as Cas glowed a little sharper when Dean patted him on the shoulder and that Dean’s own light flared at the contact. Dean was wearing a scowl on his face, but his being was radiating something very different. The tether around Cas seemed to fade in that brief moment and something new caught Sam’s attention. He looked down and there around each of their right ankles was a bright red, shimmering filament. A delicate cord that seemed almost physical- Sam was sure he’d feel it if he reached out to touch it.

And it tied them to each other.

He stared at it and felt his eyebrows raise in wonderment.  _Was Cas tied to Dean the same way he was tied to Heaven? Were they pulling him in opposite directions? Were the ties a symbol of loyalties? Was it meant to represent allegiance? Has it been there this whole time?_

He didn’t remember Bobby’s note’s saying anything about the symbology of ropes or chains.

Sam needed to figure out what that could mean. He also needed to figure out what was happening to Cas. Benny and Dean’s situation suddenly seemed a lot less urgent.

_Was Cas even aware that he was being yanked out of time like that? Has that always been happening? Is that simply how Angel express worked?  You thought they moved fast but they really just suspended time?_

_What did the connection to Dean mean? Was it some manifestation of their shared time in Hell and Purgatory?_

Sam needed to get back to his books immediately.

He was so lost in all these new questions that he totally missed Dean and Cas asking if he was okay. He snapped back to the present as Dean was waving his fingers in his face. Something he’d been doing a lot of lately.

“Ok, Sam this is the last time I ask before I check you into that loony bin again- what the hell is going on with you?” Dean said sounding slightly hoarse from the bruise forming around his throat. It was a mottled looking purple and Sam winched in sympathy.

“Nothing- I just got lost in my thoughts. Seriously, Dean, I’m fine. Tell him Cas-“Sam hoped that Cas would be able to see that his health was intact without noticing anything else.

“I do not know Sam. You do seem to be “spacing out” as Dean put it- quite frequently. Are you sure you are alright?” Cas squinted at him after letting his arms fall back to his sides from their air quote position.

“Guys, really. It’s nothing. Just tired and got tossed pretty hard by that asshole” Sam bent down to pick up a shovel to fill the grave back in.

“We’re not done talking about this.” Dean shot out as he followed Sam’s lead. Picking up a shovel and heading to the pile of earth- but not before Cas reached out with two fingers. He gently laid the pads of his pointer and middle finger to Dean’s temple in a well-rehearsed move. Dean stopped to let Cas do his thing.

Sam watched -captivated as the white light of grace flowed from Cas’ digits into Dean’s body and it suffused through his own light shadow. Dean’s colors briefly flared in a blue hue and then calmed to that soft pink that has been showing up occasionally. To Sam’s amazement, Cas shimmered in that same rosy hue for a split second and the red cord at their feet blazed  _so_  brightly. Sam marveled that they were not able to see it. He was suddenly awash in a flood of warm, comforting content feelings. He couldn't tell if Dean or Cas was the source.

_What the hell?_

Sam forced himself to not stare at their feet when the cord remained lit up as they worked to fill in the earth. He was so keyed up that it took everything he had to not just leave the grave disturbed and rush along to the cabin, so he could research what he had seen. He was filled with anticipation about what this all could mean. He was also furtively glancing at Castiel to make sure he didn’t make the world stop again before Sam could prepare himself for that jarring experience.

Once they were done and had updated Cas with their plans of heading for the cabin Castiel bid them good night and pulled his disappearing act. Saying something about needing to check in with his brothers upstairs. He looked about as excited as a lamb being led to the slaughter though. Sam could tell Dean picked up on the reluctance coming off Cas in waves too.

Sam watched both the bindings around Cas’ aura and around his ankle as he flew off. The black chain didn’t appear to be dictating Cas’ departure this time- just pulsing menacingly instead of pulling taunt- and the red cord remained glowing till Sam lost it from view. He glanced down at Dean’s feet and noticed a slight dim to his half of the red string and the other end seemed to just stretch out to nothingness.

_So- it appeared that it remained intact, no matter where they were. Were always tied to each other?_   _Always connected somehow._

Sam didn’t get a malevolent feeling from the thin shimmering line, not like he did from the thick black cord around the Angel, so he surmised that they were manifestations of different forces.

He felt a rush of unreasonable jealousy bubble up from the pit of his stomach when he contemplated the connection. That feeling they shared had been so soothing - it had felt like his soul was somehow refreshed by it.

_Was it something Dean only shared with Cas? Or was it something that happened because Cas is an Angel?_   _Did he maybe have a bond like that himself -but was simply blind to it due to the nature of the spell?_

Bond!

“Profound bond…” He whispered to himself as he had a realization that could explain some of what was happening. Little pieces of disjointed thoughts and theories were starting to come together in a blurry picture- but it was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for those of you following along- let me know you are still out there! I have a few days off coming this week and will likely spend some time making headway on this story if there is still interest in it!


	5. Sam Winchester fesses up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys...guys... I am soooo sorry for the delay. I got sucked into doing SupToberArt2018 on tumblr. It was an amazing 31-day Supernatural themed inktober challenge hosted by the crazy talented @wincher-reload and didn't have time to write AND art. If you haven't checked it out- DO IT!!!  
> So here I am on my first free morning since October ended and I am posting a short chapter as an apology. I will do my very best to get another one out soon since I feel so bad about leaving you all flapping in the wind for so long.

When they finally reached the cabin, Sam was ready to burst with everything he needed to say. He knew that something was up with Cas and he couldn’t be sure that the angel could be trusted right now. What he had been witnessing was highly suggestive that Cas was under some _influence_. He could tell Dean had noticed the strange behavior too.

And worse- Sam was starting to suspect that killing Alfie had not been in self-defense.

He wanted to compare notes- tell Dean what he thought he knew and get his brother’s insight into the situation. He just had to get to the book for a few minutes to make sure of some facts before he got Dean alarmed.

Sam shot through the front door before Dean even had the trunk of the Impala closed. He beelined it for the bedroom and yanked the book containing the spell out with an impatient jerk. Shutting the door behind him and telling Dean that he needed to make a phone call in private.

He  _might_  have implied that it was to Amelia- and there was a pang of disappointment that it wasn’t the truth. He also felt that voice that liked to point out when he was being a hypocrite start to say something, but he shut it down before it could.

He flopped down on the lumpy bed and opened the book to the spell. He scanned the text looking for any kind of legend or reference to deciphering symbols. Sam had been studying the dark arts and lore for more years than he cared to think about. He had a pretty good idea what chains would represent- he just wanted to make certain that this spell didn’t come with its’ own key.

He paged through the text scanning for clue words- and he was silently grateful that he had taken French instead of playing it safe with Spanish at Stanford. It had been a challenge, but he already had a few years of Spanish from school and he wanted to “expand his potential client base.” How ironic- his young self would hate to know that he was using his multilingual aptitude to work spells and research ancient texts for cases.

He didn’t see anything explicitly mentioning the meaning of the symbology, but he did find a paragraph that implied heavily that spells would manifest in a manner consistent with occult symbology. It did, however, make an exception stating that some truly ancient magic would not be this accommodating. Of course- there was always an exception. If the spell was from the time of magic, if it was powerful and old- it might have its own identifying symbol. A name tag of a sort- unique to the witch or wizard who crafted it.

He was sure that the symbology of a chain, as he understood it, meant slavery or bondage. Some restriction from being free. He also knew that heaven wasn’t what they sold you in Sunday school so maybe that was just an angel thing? But he was sure the terror and defeated expressions he’d seen on Cas’ face was a strong enough hint that this was something else. Cas didn’t always look like that before he hopped on angel express. That was new.

And definitely bad.

Sam paged to the back of the book and read over the notes Bobby had made one last time. He was almost entirely convinced that he knew what this meant. Someone was controlling Castiel somehow. He broke out in a cold sweat when he started to consider who or what could have  _that_  kind of power. Cas was all powered up again- his angel battery was full, making him one of the scariest things the Winchesters have yet to come across.

 

And  _something_ was forcing _him_ to do _their_ bidding.

 

This wasn’t like the purgatory souls either, this time Cas didn’t seem to have awareness of it- or if he did he was getting better at lying. He seemed scared and that alone was enough to get Sam terrified.

Sam felt the beginning of panic trying to edge to the front of his mind. He had to take a few steadying breaths to calm himself. He had no idea how he was supposed to handle this. His brother was still acting weird- thankfully not as alarming as Cas- but still, something was off there too. Their best friend who happened to be a human-shaped nuclear weapon was being made to dance to some unknown entities’ tune and Sam had to bring this all to Dean’s attention. It pissed him off thinking about how he’d have to explain about the spell.

_Goddammit, he was never gonna figure this shit with Benny out._

The red string though. That was an entirely different animal. Sam had a suspicion of what that would mean- he had taken enough literature and poetry classes that he was not unfamiliar with the symbology. He was doing his very best to compartmentalize his priories tonight. As completely unexpected and life-changing as that idea was- the fact that Cas was being controlled by an outside force had to take precedence. That could be a world-ending level of bad if they weren’t careful.

Sam took a deep breath and steeled himself for what could potentially be a top five “worst conversations with Dean ever” moment. And that was saying a lot considering the awkward and truly terrible talks they have had. He counted to ten in his head and stepped out into the living room.

He found Dean painting the angel warding symbols from the warehouse on the window. He understood what was happening and he pulled out a spray can from the box on the coffee table and helped Dean ward the cabin from Heaven’s prying. At least it seemed like they were on the same page as far as Cas was concerned.

As Sam was finishing the final sigil Dean walks up behind him.

“Ok, that should do it. Cas can’t see or hear us now.” Sam says, and he has horrible Déjà vu of when Cas was working with Crowley and they had to do this exact thing.

“Ok. What the hell?” Dean starts pointing at Sam, he’s scowling.

“I know. “Sam replies. Dean’s aura is a swirling mix of colors again and Sam gets drenched in Dean’s mess of emotions. It’s a roiling stew of concern, fear, and anxiety and it’s going to make Sam dizzy if he can’t reign it in.  

“I told you something was off with him since he got back from purgatory.” Dean shoots out.

“So, what, you think someone is messing with him or something,” Sam asks- if he can find a way to have this conversation without telling Dean what he knows he might take it.  

He’s a coward.

“Angels?” Sam asks as he thinks about that chain around Cas.

“Why would the Angels have him kill another angel?” Dean asks clearly scoffing at the idea but not coming up with anything better.

Sam sighs in frustration. It seems like he is going to have to spill. This is too important, and he steels himself for the fight that is sure to follow.

“Dean…I have to tell you something.”


	6. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See A/N at the end  
> Brief interlude- we get to see things from another perspective and some foreshadowing ...  
> FIC WILL BE UPDATING (I SWEAR ON ALL THAT IS DESTIEL...but it might be slooooowwww)  
> see notes at the end for my prostrated apology.

Naomi felt the chilling burgeoning edge of fear creep down her neck. Her vessel flushed without her permission. She was slipping. Her control had  _never_  faltered. Not for an epoch. Not since she donned her bejeweled breastplate and raised her sword against the Morning Star. Not since the very first battle. She had  _never_  conceded a fight  _they_  always yielded.

Always.

She forced her meat shell to right itself. Cleansed the humour of all the catecholamines, the chemical messengers flooding, uncontrolled, through the flesh she was contained in.

_Constrained_  in.

 

She took in a long steady breath and  _again_  called forth through the aether for the seditious creature known as  _Castiel_.

 

She had conditioned him herself. She used her skills, refined over eons to rend from his grace all human  _influence_. She had molded him to be her ideal instrument. She was wise, and battle forged, she had learned from the mistakes of those who came before. Those impatient, dismissing, arrogant  _dead_  fools.

The Winchesters were not mere mortals. They had been destined as  _the true vessels_. Even that did not account for their reach. They not only defied their preordained destinies by denying the Archangels their God-given rights- but they had also  _survived_  that.

 

Thwarted The  _apokálypsis_.

No, to underestimate these brothers was the undoing of so many.

She had planted her weapon right in their inner sanctum. He was perfect for the task.  _Nearly_  perfect.

It had taken all her focus to tease out the hold of the older brother from the seraph’s grace. They had bled together in a twisted affront to all things Holy. Saving the Righteous man had not been a task for such lowly being. Castiel’s essence could not withstand the power of that soul. Forging it had taken millennia of careful manipulation adding in stronger and purer blood to the lineage. Cultivated by powers far above even her. It was an unforeseen aberration to have  _him_  come upon the Sword.

The unexpected bonding that occurred had caused an uproar in heaven that almost rivaled that of the Fall. The host had not come that close to losing Faith in eternities.

“Dean Winchester is saved!” a shout that reached even the fallen.

She frowned at the memory and again concentrated on calling forth the willful Castiel. He had been coded to perfect obedience. She had broken him,  _utterly,_  and rebuilt him. But still even now- she felt the tug of resistance when she called him forth. Nothing had  _ever_  resisted.

She stopped a shudder from rolling over her just in time to watch the wayward angel appear in her office.

“ _Castiel_ , so nice of you to join me.” She intoned, in her affected voice, dripping with acrid sweetness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends. I hit a wall with this story once I realized that I messed up on the timing (I will be fixing that) - it has been a while since I watched season 8 and it bugged me so much that I was stuck. Also, I had a VERY rough plan of how to tie this idea of mine into cannon and then kinda got overwhelmed when trying to think of HOW exactly that would go.  
> THEN life kept happening.  
> I am in medical school and things are kinda snowballing over here as the academic year is coming to an end- I have another board exam coming up soon so BIG, IMPORTANT, future defying stuff. That said- this morning in the shower it hit me.  
> I have a very clear idea of what this story is going to be. And it's huge and a little terrifying. But I promise this story will get finished. It might take a while tho so if you want to wait till its complete to read- I totally get it. 
> 
> Finally, comments as always are like little red bull shots to my creative neurons and fuel my writing...so feed me and see if I get a burst of energy and update sooner. <3


	7. Sam Winchester gets an Earful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am back! I promised to finish this and I will! Slowly but surely.  
> See notes at the end for more details

The next two hours are some of the worst in Sam’s life. And he has had a pretty shitty existence so far, thank you very much. He managed to explain to Dean that he cast a spell to see other spells. He may have fudged a little on the explanation of  _why_  he did it.

 

“Look, Dean, you said it yourself- Cas has been weird ever since he came back.”

 

“I know what I said Sam! But since when do we turn to the dark arts instead of talking to one another!” Dean yells from across the room. He has been pacing up and down the room ever since Sam started explaining what he did.

 

“I know Dean…look what’s done is done. Let’s focus on what we need to do now.” Sam tries again.

 

“Ok let me get this straight … so this spell lets you see stuff that we normally can’t see? Like your  old powers?” Dean tries to make sense of what is happening.

 

“Yeah, exactly. Only I see other magic and people’s aura or something. It’s hard to explain- I am still trying to make sense of it all” Sam explains, dancing around the subject as delicately as he can.

 

“And you saw something with Cas?” Dean stops his pacing to face Sam. A worried look etched on his features, his aura is pulsing in a frantic pattern that Sam could read as anxious even if he had the emotional intelligence of a rock.

 

“Yeah man, it was weird. He has this chain like apparition around his chest and it goes up into the air like  _all the way_  up.”

 

“Heaven?” Dean asks always quick on the uptake.

 

“Yeah, I thought it was Angel radio first, it changes shape- the first time I noticed- it was just a thin cord, but it didn’t do anything. Then I started noticing it would kinda yank him away- like after Alfie.” Sam goes on. “He gets this flash of like  _fear_  on his face and then he pops out. But this last time- it was different.”

 

“Different how?” Dean demands, and his anxiety clicks up another notch. Sam is trying to focus on his explanation, but Dean is barraging him with his emotions and it’s getting harder to pretend that it’s not happening.

 

“When we were in the graveyard. Time stopped. Like in a cartoon. It was crazy Dean. I saw Cas pop away looking all terrified and the chain pulling tight and then everything just froze. I mean the leaves stopped moving- I couldn’t breathe but I didn’t need to either. Anyways, it was maybe 5 minutes and then Cas plops back down here and everything starts moving again.” Sam sits down on the couch, remembering the events still leave him feeling chilled.

 

“I don’t like the sound of this chain man. Got any leads on what it is? Who it is?” Dean asks falling down into the recliner opposite Sam.

 

“Near as I can tell it’s a symbol for someone or something controlling him. Making him do things. I think it might have made him kill Alfie.” Sam offers up what he has puzzled together so far.

 

“Son of a bitch!” Dean rubs his chin and sets his empty beer on the coffee table.

 

“Yeah, now we just have to figure out who has the juice to pull Cas’ strings. Before it gets any worse.” Sam is really sure he doesn’t want to meet whoever is behind this kind of move.

 

“This spell- it’s not giving you any clues on that?” Dean asks, from his bubble of anxiety and concern.

 

“No, nothing yet. I need to focus Cas on the problem and then maybe I can get something from him. But it’s not a sure thing. We should probably research what _could_ do this and then _why_ Cas?”

 

“Dude if they can make him do anything they want... He’s a BAMF, couldn’t have picked a scarier guy to go all Manchurian candidate with.” Dean seems almost pleased as he says this and it’s just a weird time to get all proud of how badass Cas is. That reminds Sam of the  _other things_  he has seen, and he thinks his brain is going to need an upgrade to keep track of everything going on.

 

“Good point. I guess his status as half fallen or something probably made him an easy target. Not like the guy hangs out with other Angels who might pick up on this.” Sam is starting to work the problem now. “Do you think it’s one of them though? Why would they not just do the heavy lifting themselves- I mean Cas isn’t especially powerful right?”

 

Dean gives off a flash of offense at that but then his aura settles back into its anxious pattern and Sam almost snorts.

 

“I don’t know. Maybe he can do something they can’t. Have access to something they need? The guy has been dead a few times and survived Hell and Purgatory- he is made of some pretty tough stuff”. Dean gets that slight pink hue in his aura and now Sam is sure it’s like a blush.

 

_Dean’s aura is blushing. God this is getting harder to ignore by the minute._

 

Sam thinks for a few seconds, what makes Cas unique. What could someone want with him specifically?

 

“The tablets? You think maybe someone is trying to get their hands on it?”

 

That thought is beyond terrifying. Especially since Kevin still doesn’t know everything it says. It might have instructions on how to auto destruct earth for all they knew.

 

\-------

They spend the rest of the night looking up rituals to break holds on people- hoping that Cas qualifies as enough of a person for the spells to work. They search through all of the books they can get their hands on. They make a brief call to Kevin for some translation work and then they fall asleep for a few hours after the sun has already come out over the horizon. They have a half-formed plan that requires a few ingredients and a secure location by the time lunch rolls around.

 

Sam is reluctant to follow through with the blanket cleansing ritual they decided on. He’s still not sure what the thing tethering Dean and Cas together is- or what it does and he’s a little scared that this spell might sever that too. What if it's important, what if the reason Cas keeps helping them has something to do with that thin cord. What if its’ Cas’ connection to humanity and if they sever it he might return to factory settings? He can’t let it keep him from following through though- Dean would need him to explain and he’s not ready to broach that topic yet. Not with how little he knows so far. He’s gonna have to research it when they get back to the bunker. Maybe call in some favors.

 

Right now, they need to get Cas free of whatever was yanking his chain- literally.

 

They collected the ingredients, basic herbs, holy water, a selenite crystal to draw the spell into. Dean had suggested they add some holy oil to make it more Angelic and the logic had been sound. Dean really is so much smarter than he ever gives himself credit for.

 

Now they needed to wait till the sun sets to complete the ritual.

 

Sam was terrified of this going wrong- he was sure that whoever was making Cas their puppet would know they attempted this if it failed. And that was someone they really didn’t need to add to the ever-growing list of enemies. It didn’t help that Dean was constantly broadcasting his own anxiety and fear to Sam. Dean looked like he was radioactive- glowing and pulsing in dark hues almost going to black. It was nauseating experiencing his own distress added to the overwhelming flood coming from his brother. If he ever doubted that Dean cared about Cas, he might have found this reassuring. As it was it was almost enough to cripple him.

 

Finally, the sun was dipping below the mountains and they ran over the ingredients and Latin phrases one last time.

 

“You ready?” Sam asks Dean who finally stopped pacing. They are outside in a clearing in the forest near the cabin. The ritual required them to be under the night sky, so no indoor protective sigils had them both on edge.

 

“Yeah let’s get this done Sabrina” Dean’s clearly still not letting the thing with the spell go.

 

Choosing to ignore the dig Sam pours the ingredients into the bowl, mixing it with his hands. The crystal is hanging from a chain around Dean’s neck and it starts glowing as they start chanting the words.  Sam dips a piece of rope into the liquid letting it get soaked all the way through. When the crystal is glowing bright white, he nods to Dean.

 

“Hey uh Cas, buddy. Could you pop in? We wanted to talk to you about something important. We’re outside at Rufus’.” Dean’s prayer sounds as awkward as ever but Sam smiles when he sees that now familiar pink light.

 

They don’t have to wait long, no later than the final words leave Dean’s mouth and they hear the familiar sound of wings. Dean moves fast and flicks his lighter to the ground. A ring of holy fire traps them in a wide circle with an angel being controlled by some unknown entity. Not their smartest move but since when do they do the smart thing?

 

Cas looks confused and opens his mouth to say something but before he gets anything out that chain pulls tight. Its darker than Sam’s seen it and it looks like it is hurting Cas. Its swirling and glowing and Cas’ face goes slack in pain. The fire seems to be blocking him from any outside influence- that was a gamble and Sam’s relieved Dean suggested it.

 

He springs to action and chants the last phrase before taking Ruby’s knife and severing the symbolic rope. The crystal around Dean’s neck starts humming and glowing so bright they have to close their eyes.

 

Sam yells out “Dean! Take it off!”

 

Dean rips it off flinging it to the ground seconds before a high-pitched screeching sound nearly bursts their eardrums and the crystal explodes into a fine dust.

 

Cas slumps down onto the forest floor with the grace of the town drunk falling off his regular bar seat.

 

 

They reach the angel at the same time, Dean falling to his knees and cradling Cas’ face between his hands.

 

“Cas! Cas- come on buddy- say something.” Dean’s voice sounds hoarse- like he’s been screaming. Sam vaguely recalls that he  _was_. He’d screamed for Cas the second the explosion rocked the small clearing.  So much had happened in those few seconds it takes his mind a minute to make sense of it.

 

He knew the spell had worked- he had watched as the chain had railed against it pulling so tight he had held his breath not knowing which force would prevail. The chain had broken in a furious burst of black energy that had gone careening straight towards to crystal. He had barely had time to warn Dean.

 

The small crater in the earth where it had come to rest could have been Dean’s chest. He is so immensely relieved by that close call that it takes him a second to parse out all the emotions coming at him.

 

Dean is hysterical. His face is set in hard lines and his jaw clenches and unclenches between whispered pleas for Cas to wake up- but his aura is a roaring force of fevered panic. It almost knocks Sam over in its intensity. He glances down to their ankles suddenly terrified that the ritual had severed whatever tied his brother to the angel. He takes in a huge gulp of air in relief when he sees the cord brighter than ever. It’s so bright he has light spots dancing in his vision when he looks up and where Dean now has Cas’ head cradled on his lap.

 

“Cas, come on man, you don’t get to leave. Not now. Come on Cas” Dean is repeating over and over. He isn’t even aware that Sam is staring at them. Sam can see Cas’ light- its still there which he takes a good sign, its dimmer than normal but still there.

 

He decides that they should probably get inside. They don’t know what they just pissed off, but it might be coming for them. He picks up a jug they had placed next to the supplies and douses the holy fire. He collects the knife and walks over to Dean and Cas.

 

“Dean, we should get him inside. We don’t know if someone is coming for him and we are exposed out here.”

 

“Sam…is he…can you see?” Dean asks, voice cracking twice.  He doesn’t look away from Cas.

 

“He’s alive Dean, I can see his…grace I guess. He’s powered down or something- its dimmer than normal but its there. I think he’ll be fine.”  Sam says squeezing Dean’s shoulder.

 

“It worked though right? I mean he’s not chained anymore?” Dean’s voice sounds near panic- some of his control slipping and Sam’s impressed. He’s privy to the utter turmoil that Dean is feeling in this moment and the fact that he can sound so near calm is beyond what Sam thinks he himself to be capable of.

 

“Yeah Dean, the chain is gone. Whatever it was it was not good- it was as black as some of the demons I saw. But we really should get inside.” Sam tries to comfort Dean as subtly as he can while still prodding him to get moving.

 

Dean nods and looks up at Sam “Help me with him.”

 

Together they carry the unconscious angel to the cabin. They gently lay him on the bed and Dean sits down beside him. He keeps up his steady stream of pleas for Cas to wake up and Sam decides to give them some privacy.

 

 He still needs to research that red tether that seems to have no intention of dulling now that the chain has been severed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo... anyone still reading this? I can't apologize enough for how long this is taking. It was meant to be a one chapter thing that got away from me and it's looking to be pretty long...will be working on it over the next few weeks in between school stuff so should make decent progress from now till the end if all goes well. Thanks for sticking with it- let me know if you are still there- it helps motivate me more than you know!  
> AN:  
> I went back and did some minor editing on the previous chapters, its' been a while since I watched season 8 and got my timelines confused. I took out references to Sam and the trails since he wasn't technically doing them at this point so sorry about that. Also as usual- unbeta'd so let me know if you see any mistakes.


	8. Sam Winchester experiences consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Debated on whether to post this or add more- figured I'd keep moving so I don't lose momentum again so here is a shorter chapter but it's something right? Thanks for sticking with it!

Cas doesn’t wake up for two days.

Dean never leaves his side for more than the few minutes it takes him to use the bathroom. Sam hasn’t felt this wrung out since he was detoxing from Demon blood. Dean’s constant fretting at the angel’s bedside added to his own- is extremely distressing. Sam hasn’t had much time to think about his initial reason for doing this spell.

He’s currently very concerned over any potential fallout from Cas’ puppet master. He has Kevin looking into who could have this much power and he’s even asked Crowley -though only after Dean broke his resolve on contacting that slimy bastard. So far, they have nothing concrete. Crowley had agreed with the current theory of “heaven” and as vague as that was, it was also the most terrifying of possibilities.

They both remember the last time Cas got censured by heaven. That had been a terrible time for everyone involved-, especially Castiel. Sam was very sure it had involved torture severe enough to crack the most stubborn creature he’d ever known. He didn’t like to think about what that would look like. His mind had enough horror in it to drive an average man insane.

The motivation behind heaven using Cas as a gofer was less clear this time. It had to involve the tablets- that was the working theory. Castiel was the only Angel with access to them and the prophet, and he would not give up either without a fight. So- heaven was playing dirty. Nothing new. This time they stopped it- in time hopefully. To be safe they had Kevin and his mother head back to the bunker- they had no way of knowing what -if anything- had been wrung out of Cas.

Sam spent the few moments between caring for Dean and his unconscious friend, looking into his second most burning question- that red cord. It was hard not to stare at it and Dean was bound to notice once Cas was out of the woods.

The cord was just as lustrous as when the chain had first broken- it had to mean something, and Sam would figure it out. He was itching to get back, so he could scour the Men of Letters library. The books at the cabin had a few obscure references – none that he wasn’t already aware of.

The ancient Chinese lore of the Red string of fate- where destined lovers were tied together by a red string seemed like a reach here. It’s been romanticized over the centuries and changed from its initial meaning. Sam thinks the original would maybe apply- it signifies people destined to meet. Usually to help one another in some pivotal way. That fits Dean and Cas. Castiel saved Dean from Hell- that was about as pivotal as it gets. And that had all been foretold right? So-destiny.

He’s not sure why it would still be there if that’s what it is. Or why he hasn’t seen it on any other people. He’s seen the auras of all the strangers they’ve encountered since he cast this spell. Even the true faces of some demons and Castiel’s grace. Why hadn’t he seen this thread on anyone else? Surely fate concerns itself with more than just the Winchesters?

He knows a red string is prominent in Kabbalah but he’s pretty sure that wards off evil and it has seven knots if he remembers what Brady had told him when he was still at Stanford. Brady had been into every trending fad- even religious ones which is painfully ironic since Sam’s learned he was possessed by a demon the whole time. So, he wasn’t putting much stock into that belief.

He wasn’t really finding anything else that fit though. He figured if it was symbolic of an older spell he’d need occult texts, maybe even help from an actual witch since he had no idea how many potential spells there were that had their own unique calling card.

He was somewhat relieved to know it wasn’t a controlling spell. It would have been purged along with the chain if it was. He was taking small comfort in that.

Because whatever it was -was also affecting Dean.

________________________________________

 

Sam had been dozing in the corner of the room and Dean had fallen asleep in his own chair pulled up close to the bed. Dean finally resting was the only break Sam had been able to get from his overpowering emotions. He wonders what Dean's like when it's Sam who's hurt. Some ugly part of him has been feeling jealous of Castiel and he hates it. His brother is consumed with it and it's hard not to wonder.  
Dean's a caregiver- has been since he was four and had his baby brother shoved into his arms. It's so much a part of him but Sam's always assumed that it didn't extend much beyond himself. Which he knows is awful and self-centered, but he's spent his whole life being the center of Dean's. Sure, they occasionally added found- family to their ragtag team, Bobby, Ellen, Jo. Now Kevin and Charlie. He figured Cas was part of that, but he felt different. He hadn't realized that he's mostly thought of Cas as Dean's. He's a different species with his own set of priorities and morals. Sam's never really put him on the same level as the others. He also thought he understood that Dean and Cas had an unusual relationship. He's coming to understand that he had never realized just how different though. He's considering this when he starts drifting off.  
He's blissfully crossing into the realm between awake and asleep when he's snapped out of it. 

 

Castiel wakes up with a start. Gasping for air he doesn’t actually require. 

“Cas!” Dean’s head shoots up and his face- for once- betrays his emotions. A landslide of relief floods Sam’s entire being. Mostly Dean’s but mixed in is his own. It’s a lot.

“Dean?” Cas sounds every bit the confused angel they know, and it soothes something deep inside Sam. Cas doesn’t seem to have been changed from the severing. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Hey, Cas. Gave us quite the scare there- always so dramatic.” Dean teases despite feeling overwhelmed with too many emotions to name. His aura is also doing what Sam would describe as an imitation of the Aurora Borealis.

Cas swallows audibly and only then seems to realize that Sam is in the room. “Sam.”

“Hey Cas, how are you feeling?” he asks as he shifts his focus from Dean to the angel.

Cas is still a little muted from his usual glow, as Sam has come to know it, but as he watches it seems to be getting back to normal.  
Cas is also broadcasting.

Fragmented questions, flashes of a white room, memories from the night in the woods and a litany of things Sam has no comprehension of. He figures it's Enochian for the most part, wavelengths, chords of worshipful vibrations, creatures made up of light and occupying dimensions his mind can’t conceive of. A red handprint searing into flesh. A feeling of completeness that shakes Sam’s fundamental understanding of the world. The sensation of being torn to pieces on an atomic level.  
Dean’s blood dripping from his fingers.

Desolation.

Fields of carnage and black wings. That woman from before. Searing spikes being driven into his head. Demands that he kill Dean Winchester repeated with each new agony. A strength that weathers it all.

Sam starts hyperventilating. Clutching at his head as it is inundated with so much, too much. He feels the blood start to trickle out of his ears and he hears Dean’s alarmed yelling. But all he can do is try to breathe as his entire being is engulfed in Castiel.

Suddenly there's a soothing hand on his shoulder, the cool burn of grace submerges his frantic mind and calms it. Easing him out of the storm that is Cas. He starts breathing steady and slow. His eyes flit open and he stares into the blue depths of the creature that is utterly unfathomable.

They forget sometimes- what he is.

Just how alien and completely extraordinary. Raw power barely contained in fragile flesh.

Sam won’t forget, never again.

“Sam, are you alright? You were bleeding from your ears.” Cas says looking worried.

“Dude what the hell was that!?” Dean demands, making no attempt to conceal the fact that he is scared and pissed off.

Sam swallows a few times trying to gather his thoughts- he has a theory of what happened but he’s not sure. Cas should be able to verify.

“Um, I think it was just Cas.” He gets out and has to clear his throat that suddenly feels parched.

“Come again?” Dean sits back on his haunches from where he had been leaning over Sam.

“He- um, woke up and I think he’s usually filtered or something but since he was dazed- he was just all angelic and my brain short-circuited.” Sam thinks that’s about as close to an explanation as he’s got right now. He can’t bring himself to look at Cas, not again, he needs to let what he saw settle a bit.

“I don’t understand?” Cas finally speaks again. “What do you mean Sam?

“Shit the spell? “Dean clarifies rubbing his hand over his jaw.

“Yeah,” Sam thinks letting Dean explain will be for the best- he’s still trying to gather himself.

“Dumbledore here cast a spell. Now he can see stuff- like auras and shit. I think you just fried his circuit with your awesome self.” Dean is apparently over his initial worry enough to remember being annoyed with Sam about this. 

Sam rolls his eyes before getting up from the floor on shaky legs and filling a glass with water.

“The spell you cast on me in the woods? I thought that was a cleansing spell.” Cas sounds like he is trying to make sense of his ridiculous charges and all the trouble they manage to get into.

“No, that was what that was. This was earlier. That’s how we knew you were being manipulated- which we really should talk about.” Dean says, and he leads Cas into the living room where Sam is just putting his cup in the sink. He can feel Dean’s struggle- he’s straddling the line of being scared for Sam or Cas and just ends up in a mess of tension with no clear target.

“What spell did you use Sam? “Cas looks like he’s more concerned with that then the really serious problem of being used as a pawn.

And then Dean asks “Hey shouldn’t it go away now? That’s what you said right?”

Shit. That is what he’d told Dean. And he’d assumed he would have figured out the thing with Benny by now or that he could just pretend to not be affected anymore. He did not see Castiel coming though. There was no hiding that.

“Shouldn’t we focus on figuring out who was giving Cas his marching orders?” Sam deflects.

“We’re not done.” Dean says, and Sam can see the mental gears moving pieces into place as his brother looks at him. Then Dean turns around to look at Castiel about to ask for any insight he had on the mysterious wizard working behind the curtain.

“Naomi” Castiel grounds out and his light sharpens to a pure blinding white that forces Sam to look away again. There's so much betrayal and anger in his voice that Sam briefly pities whoever they are. Before deciding that they deserved whatever Cas was planning when he remembers the spikes.

And Dean’s blood dripping from an angel blade.

Then Cas is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who liked and commented on the last chapter- this is for you! 
> 
> AN: I realized that they technically didn't discover the bunker till later this season but for plot reasons- they are already living there so work with me ;)


	9. Castiel raises some hell in heaven

 

Castiel remembers everything.

 

The expansive training room in which he had been forced to murder Dean over and over.   _Eleven hundred and seventy-three times to be exact._  

Every time he succumbed to the torture and did as he was commanded a part of him shattered. Something deep in his grace fractured with each blade he thrust into the man he saved from the clutches of hell all those years ago.

 

Castiel has come to think of his very long existence in terms of before and after-  _him_. It’s blasphemy he is aware, but it does not change anything.  He has searched his heart on many occasions and he has concluded that his existence only gained meaning in the  _after._

 

 _The before_  is epochs of following orders passed from faceless superiors. Carried out  _without_ question. Countless battles- victories too numerous to recount. Blade drenched in the blood of the Lord's enemies -always striking true. He was the weapon of heaven. Merciless, swift and absolute.

 

He never doubted. What reason did he have? He was doing as God commanded. There was no nobler purpose. He reveled with his garrison after each triumph.  Eagerly awaiting the next. Traveling to distant planets, crossing the time stream, other dimensions, and even Hell to do the work of Heaven.

 

Humans were barely given a thought, their isolated planet alone in its disobedience. Lucifer’s playground. It required more intervention than most in creation, but he never had any regard for it. Neither did he for any other- he existed to complete his mission.

Whatever the Lord commanded.

 

The edict to lay siege to Hell in search of the Righteous man had been like countless before.

 

Castiel donned his unadorned breastplate and armor, a soldier in one of the countless battalions. He had always been a gifted strategist and could surmise the plan without it being made known.

 

They were to suffuse the demonic realm with as many warriors as they could spare, give no quarters. Make clear a path for the Principalities to extract the soul for the highest among them.

_Michael, he who is like God._

 

Castiel had given no heed to his own survival, he fought with all his considerable might slaying thousands of demons as he advanced. He had been astounded and humbled when he had broken through a horde of lower beasts to come upon the being they sought.

 

In all the ages he had never witnessed a more beautiful sight. He had recoiled at the unbidden thought. Reason won out and he calmed- he had never laid eyes on the  _Most High_. He would not need to strike himself down for such irreverence. 

 

The mortal had taken up Hell’s cause according to what had been foretold.  He was awash in the blood of his victims. Black ichor clinging to his very essence. Underneath the rot was a force of love so fervent it had brought him to a stop. In the midst of a fierce battle, he had stilled to linger in its radiance. That had been his mistake.

 

Instead of heralding the discovery to allow the Dominions to claim the Sword for their Prince he had simply contemplated the creature. It was a stark contradiction. The dark depravity of his actions in this place only highlighted his virtue.  In the mire, he was a beacon of goodness.

It filled Castiel with a clarity he had never known, and he  _felt_ something. He was so shaken by that realization that he almost missed the wretched man reaching for him.  Instinctually he reached back.

 

The moment his grace connected with the flesh of the Righteous man he knew things would forever be  _changed_.

 

He had proclaimed “Dean Winchester is saved” with no thought to the consequences of such brazen insolence. His cry had been heard in  _all_  of creation.

 

And Naomi had tried to make him forget.

 

 

That instant had redirected his entire existence. He still had not come to understand what had led to that, if it had been fated that he save Dean or not. He knew he would not change it for anything. All the suffering and pain that he has come to know since was a small price to pay for the freedom he has come to treasure.

 

He knows that God has abandoned them. All of them. And he no longer feels like he is a profane aberration. He has found purpose with Dean, with the Winchesters and their quest to save people. Humanity in all its complexity and heartache- he now marvels at. They are so small and insignificant on the cosmic scale, but they have such determination. The brothers alone have thwarted prophecy time after time. Something Castiel had thought impossible.

 

_And she had tried to rend it all from him._

 

He is inside her office, his grip strong and unbreakable at her throat an instant after her name was spoken in the cabin.

 

His blade called forth with merely a thought and it’s already drawn a drop of blood where it’s pressed under her chin.

 

He lets the blazing hatred he feels settle before he speaks.

 

 

 

“Fucking Angels!” Dean exhales on his breath when Castiel just takes off. “I hate it when he does that. Probably gonna get himself killed. Idiot!”

 

He turns to face Sam “Who the fuck is Naomi? Do you know?”

 

“I guess it’s the women I kept seeing. I think she’s an angel.” Sam answers, he’s still making sense of all he saw- when he almost drowned in Castiel.

 

“Explain” Dean’s tone brooks no argument.

 

 

 

Sam tells him all he can make sense off. He’s pretty sure she has been messing with Cas’ mind- literally. He tells Dean about a chair with straps and metal pokers just like they saw with Alfie.

 

He gets the impression that it’s how Angles are rewired.

 

She must have been trying to break Castiel’s loyalty to them. He has a hard time explaining the training room to Dean. His own emotions at what he had witnessed in Cas’ mind war with what he sensed from Cas.

 

He was surprised that they shared the same depth of anguish at what he was made to do. It's hard to distance himself from so much feeling.

 

Add to that the feedback he’s getting from Dean and it makes it near impossible. Dean is alight with fear and barely contained fury. The fear seems to be  _for_ Castiel- not  _off_ Castiel.

 

“She wanted him to kill me? Why?” Dean asks tension in his jaw making the words sound snapped.

 

“You’re his anchor to this world. He views all of humanity through you, Dean. If she managed to sever the connection you share, he’d be impressionable again. If she made  _him_  sever it- it would break him. He’d seek out orders. It’s his most base instinct.” This makes Dean flare that pink color he gets when he's embarrassed and the red cord blazes at his ankle.

Sam thinks he understands so much more now. Naomi is incredibly smart and insightful.

 

If Castiel had been successful in his task- he would have been lost. Sam is certain of that. He is also aware that it would have firmly put Castiel on his own kill list. It was a carefully calculated plan- one that would have worked perfectly. Ending their little family swiftly and leaving her free to do whatever it is that she has planned.

 

His skin breaks out in a cold sweat as he considers how close it came to pass.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Why?” his normally low voice made rough with his wrath.

 

“Castiel. Settle down” Naomi is remarkably calm for one in her position.

 

“Why?!” he repeats, the blade sliding just a millimeter further into the soft flesh. Coaxing a small stream of blood down the shining metal.

 

“We need those tablets. They are a threat to all of creation.” Naomi sounds sure of her cause- voice unwavering as she answers.

It makes the fire in his belly stoke hotter.

 

“Dean?” He can’t get the whole question out, but this would suffice.

 

“He cannot be trusted Castiel. None of them can. They do not realize the peril they place us all in by persisting down this path!” She moves slightly in his grasp.

 

“He is the Righteous man. The true vessel. He protects life…you made me… “

 

 _Kill him_.

 

He cannot even speak it.

 

“I can see now that perhaps that was the wrong way to go about this. “Naomi says coolly. “That was my own hubris. You were so malleable after we got you out of Purgatory. I thought I could wipe you clean.” She sighs, like a mother who has discovered her child disobeying.

 

“You returned me? Why?” Castiel feels his resolve start to waver. He was sure he’d be spilling blood today.

_Dean’s neck snapping in his hands flashes unbidden in his mind._

She has more information than he anticipated. She is powerful that much is evident. His plan starts to shift as he considers his options. Ever the strategist.

 

Perhaps she can serve a purpose after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done with boards- let's hope- now I am just waiting for the results to post. Hoping for some miracles on that front. 
> 
> Anyways- means I finally have some time to write- mind you not a lot but some. YAY! Let me know if you're still out there- its always fantastic motivation to know the story is being read and enjoyed!  
> Thanks for all the support so far - y'all are awesome!


	10. Sam Winchester gets called out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I PASSED MY BOARD EXAM!!!! So now I am officially free to write. This should get moving faster now!

 

 

Castiel has secured Naomi in the prison cells of Heaven. He vividly recalls being hosted here some time ago. During his “re-education” as Zacharia had called it. 

 

He has learned a few things that trouble him.

 

Naomi is a skilled handler. She specializes in “fixing” errant angels. She worked directly under the Archangels. When there still were Archangels. She understands how to purge unwanted behaviors and traits from soldiers. Set them back on course. It had been her who had  _reminded_  Castiel where his allegiance belonged.  

 

She also knows more about the tablets then she has revealed thus far. Only stating that they hold immense power- over all the realms- and should be kept safe, in Heaven.

 

“This was not possible Castiel. You should have remained entirely unaware of my direction. In all of time, this has never happened.” Naomi tells him. He sees fear pass in her eyes- briefly – but he caught it.

 

“Perhaps my particular path has altered me.” Castiel muses, he remembers being brought back after Michael had obliterated him in Stull. He is unique. He has no vessel. Not in the true sense. He has a body that is  _wholly_   _his_. His flesh is a part of him just as his grace is. He often muses on his precarious straddle- both human and host. He is neither and both.

 

“You are a peculiar creature, I will grant you that.  My influence regardless should have been undetectable. Most certainly it should have been infallible and unbreakable. “Naomi studies him through the bars. “You have a strength that resisted me on every turn. I have encountered stubborn creatures before, but this was more than that. It was like I was trying to wrest control from another power. Like I was trying to compete with a stronger force. Destiny it seems has plans for you.”

 

“What does that mean?” Castiel has been with the Winchesters long enough for the idea of fate to make his hair stand on edge.

 

“You are being driven towards something Castiel. Something big. I cannot say what. But you have been changed significantly since the last time I repaired you. There was something  _even then_  that set you apart. It has only grown. There is something in your very essence. In your grace that should not be there.”

 

“What?” Castiel is not sure he wants to know.

 

“A soul”

 

 

 

“Jesus Cas -don’t do that!” Dean exclaims- louder than he intended when Castiel pops back in the middle of the living room. Dean has been pacing over the old rug for the better part of an hour and the dust had been parted like the Dead sea along his path.

 

“My apologies. I did not mean to startle you.”

 

“That’s not what I meant. Stop taking off before we can talk-maybe make a  _plan_?  You know- _before_  we charge into the unknown with no backup!” Dean’s worry turned to anger in less than two seconds.

 

“You need not have been concerned about me.” Cas tilts his head as he gets to the quick of the tantrum Dean is working up too.

 

Sam smiles as he watches this interaction. Cas has come a long way in his ability to read humans. He’s become an expert at reading Dean.

 

 

Dean huffs in frustration- his bubble burst and his energy finally resolving as relief settles in his gut. Sam watches them closely and frowns a little when the light around Cas reaches for Dean’s and his aura settles down in its usual calm.  _Fascinating._

 

 

He just keeps adding questions to his ever-growing list.

 

_Does this happen with other people?_

_Is this something Cas does?_

_If so does he do it with Sam?_

_Or…is this a Dean and Cas thing?_

 

Something deep in his bones leans toward the last.

 

Sam studies Cas while they talk. That horrible chain is nowhere to be seen. His being is glowing stronger than before and he is picking up no fear from Cas. It’s comforting to know they really did manage to free him.

 

“Yeah whatever- you’re Buffy and we’re just the Scoobies.” Dean feigns his annoyance. “What happened?”  

 

Cas frowns at the reference but decides to let it be.

 

“I captured Naomi. She will no longer be forcing me to do her will.” Cas states with his usual succinctness. Like being brainwashed was just a regular Tuesday at the office.

 

“Start at the beginning. Who is this Naomi chick- and what did she want with you?” Dean slumps down on the ratty couch next to Sam.

 

“She is a specialist. One of the last remaining Thrones. Their power was over the mind of the host.”

 

“Thrones- they rule over  _Will_  right?” Sam asks perking up. He has never had a chance to question Castiel about all the angel lore he’s poured over. He wants to update all their sources at some point.

 

“Exactly. They were appointed to keep us focused. They redirect those who stray, those who become  _distracted._ ” Sam catches Castiel’s eyes flitting to Dean as he says that. “There were few since there was hardly a regular need.”

 

“Are they the dicks that messed with you back when Zach tightened your leash?” Dean sends out a rolling wave of disgust as he remembers that prick.

 

“Yes.” Castiel nods.

 

“So -she wanted to control you? Why? And why did she have you kill Dean?” Sam asks, his mind spinning with possibilities.

 

Castiel’s eyes go wide in alarm. He looks shaken. His eyes flick from Sam to Dean, but he can’t seem to make eye contact with Dean for long.

 

“How-…how do you… Sam. How do you know about that?” Castiel feels exposed. Vulnerable.

 

_Is he so compromised that everyone is able to slip past his defenses? See his most shameful acts._

“When you um, woke up…I got a glimpse of some stuff.” Sam looks uncomfortable, sensing that Castiel is disturbed by his insight.

 

“He said she made you kill me- like a whole bunch of times.” Dean’s trying to sound calm, but his aura is pulsing in conflicting emotions.

 

 

_Eleven hundred and seventy-three times_  Castiel thinks.

 

“Yes, she wanted to keep the tablets safe.” He says looking at his feet.

 

“And she thinks I don’t?” Dean sounds incredulous.

 

“No, she said my connection to you made me unpredictable. She thought that it was part of the reason why it was hard to make me break to the reign if you will.” Cas knows this information if not handled correctly would make Dean uncomfortable.

 

“Oh…” is the only response he gets.

 

“I tried to explain that to him, but he wouldn’t believe me.” Sam says, the “I-told-you-so tone of his voice granting on Dean’s already frazzled nerves.

 

“You were able to glean Naomi’s motivations, Sam? Just what is the spell you cast?” Castiel is nervous suddenly. He wonders if Sam can sense what he has not. Naomi claims he has a soul. He is not convinced.

 

“No Cas, I just saw that she was messing with you. Like Crowley was with Alfie? And I – I saw the room…with Dean. I just kinda figured out what that was about. It makes sense.” Sam feels awkward, Castiel is the mind reader and it is clearly upsetting him being on the receiving end.

 

“I see.” Castiel seems to be closing himself off as much as he is able. “And the spell?”

 

“Oh yeah – I found it in one of Bobby’s books. It’s called Ut Revelasti.” Sam says trying to sound casual- Castiel can still look in his mind if he feels like it.

 

“Clutѐ. He was a powerful sorcerer. He was beheaded for sleeping with the King’s favorite mistress.” Castiel thinks about the spell. “Why did you cast it Sam?”

 

“Dude you ain’t exactly been yourself since you got back, he noticed,” Dean answers before Sam can come up with a convincing one himself.

 

Castiel’s frown deepens and he squints his eyes at Sam. He’s not buying it and Sam can tell.

 

 

 

 

They spent a few hours going over a plan. They have successfully dealt with Naomi for now- keeping her locked up seems like the best idea. She might know more, and they could use all the help they can get to work on the tablets.

 

They decide that regrouping at the bunker with Kevin is their next move. He would have all the tablets in one place and he could continue translating them. Castiel has offered to stay and help.

Deans aura did what Sam thinks of as a happy dance at that news.

 

Dean and Sam pack up the Impala and Castiel decides to check on the state of Heaven before he meets them in Kansas.

 

Before they part Castiel pulls Sam aside.

 

“Sam, why did you really cast the spell?” He gives Sam a hard glare making it clear that he is not falling for his story.

 

“What do you mean? We told you.” Sam tries desperately if he tries hard enough maybe Cas will let it be.

 

“Sam- if you cast Clute’s spell it would have stopped working the moment you learned of Naomi. Dean was correct about that. That was not the question you asked to be answered. What was?”

 

_Oh shit_

" Cas we should talk. Somewhere private.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with it...sorry for the crazy posting schedule. I am hoping to complete this in the next three weeks. It's looking like we might be halfway...still working out the details. Please let me know if you have any thoughts-do you hate it or love it or what did you have for breakfast :) <3


	11. Sam Winchester has a talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to try and get a chapter out every day but I am working on my Residency applications too so no promises.

They pull into the bunker at just past two in the morning. Castiel had popped into the back seat just outside of Omaha after checking on things upstairs. They’ve been quiet, each lost in thought.

 

Before the garage door even closes Mrs. Tran is in the doorway leading to the hall. Kevin is standing behind her.

 

“What is going on- and don’t even think about lying to me!” She says, all five feet and one-inch radiating authority. Sam would have been intimidated without his second sight. With it- he almost cowers. She is pulsing with protectiveness and there is something strong and dark in her that unsettles him. It’s subtle but it speaks of the lengths she’d be willing to go to protect her son.

 

Sam looks away and catches Kevin’s eyes. He looks haggard, dark circles under his eyes and his hair is greasy and unwashed. His aura glimmers like Castiel’s. It has that same hint of divine power that sets Sam’s hair on end. Kevin returns his look with one of exasperation. Sam gets the distinct impression that the kid can see right through him sometimes.

 

“Good to see you too Mrs. Tran, could you maybe let us get inside before you start the Spanish Inquisition?” Dean says as he passes them carrying one of their duffels and a shotgun.

 

They all turn and head into the bunker. It’s silent except for their footfalls and the whirring of the generators that are always running.

 

Dean stops at the first table in the library, unloading his cargo before running his hands over his face and taking a deep breath.

 

“Sam, you feel like filling them in? That drive took it out of me. I need to take a leak, have some serious quality time with my memory foam and some coffee made by Cas. Not necessarily in that order.” _Cas makes strong coffee_.

 

“Yeah sure, Dean.” Sam answers and he watches as Dean subtly nods his head in the direction of the kitchen, Cas follows him without a word. He glances down at the cord between them and takes a deep breath. He’s trying to come up with the best no-frills-to-the-point summary of what’s happened, and he’s so distracted by everything the rest of them _can’t_ see he wants to cry.

 

Sam catches the Tran’s up and it’s mostly pain-free. If you ignore the part where Mrs. Tran kicked him in the shin for not warning them that Castiel was “compromised”.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 “Thanks, man. I needed this” Dean says as he takes a cup of steaming coffee from Cas. He took a quick shower after he caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror. He had dirt caked in his hair and he’s not sure if it was from doing magic in the woods like some Spellman reject or if it was grave dirt from their last hunt. The last few days had been rough.

 

“How are you doing Dean?” Cas asks, and his mouth pulls into that _almost_ smile he gives Dean sometimes. That soft look makes Dean feel like he does when he pushes Baby over one of the hills outside of town.

That split second when they catch air and he’s weightless _._

_Freefalling_.

 

 It takes his breath away every time.

 

“Peachy. Everyone is safe and home. I’m good.” He says before taking another sip of the warm liquid. _You’re home,_ he doesn’t say.

 

“You should get some rest. We have much to do and you have not been taking care of yourself” Castiel says, his voice low and comforting, there’s admonition there but there is also fondness.

 

Warmth spreads through Dean’s chest and it has little to do with the coffee he’s been sipping.

He clears his throat loudly. “Yeah yeah, not you too. Sam smothers me enough” and with that, he pats Cas on the shoulder as he leaves. Intent on taking care of the last item on his to-do list.

 

He’s asleep before his body fully sinks into the matress.

 

* * *

 

 

Cas finds Sam in the library after all the inhabitants have settled in for the night.

“Hey Cas,” Sam says when he looks up from his research. He’s anxious to figure out this connection between the angel and his brother now that they have Naomi taken care of. He’s almost forgotten about Benny. The conversation he promised Cas -the one that he is no doubt about to have- reminded him.

 

 

“Sam. We should talk” Castiel settles into the chair opposite Sam, he raises his brow at the titles he sees scattered all around the table.

 

Chinese Lore: A Men of Letter compendium for the Tang Dynasty.

_Diary of Georges Dumézil -_ Castiel remembers him, arrogant fascist but intelligent.

_Diyuzhi_

“Do we have another case?”

 

“No, not exactly.” Sam shuts the heavy leather-bound copy of _Yuè Xià Lǎorén_ and clears his throat. “You’re right Cas we need to talk. What do you want to know?”

 

“Why did you _really_ cast Clutѐ’s spell?”

 

Cas cuts to the heart of the matter with no preamble, Sam should be used to it by now but it still shocks him sometimes. He and Dean can dance around a subject for months- years in some cases.

 

“Yeah that. What do you know about Benny?” Sam starts. He figures since Castiel was in Purgatory with the two of them he should know something that Dean isn’t telling him. Castiel is poker-faced as usual, but Sam is focusing on his aura instead.

 

“Benny Lafitte? The vampire?” Cas squints at Sam, he was not expecting to be talking about him.

 

Sam studies his reaction, or rather lack of. All he’s getting is confusion and a mild sense of irritation. Sam isn’t sure if he is the cause of it it’s the bloodsucker. So, he keeps going.

 

“One and the same. You spent time with him right. Did he ever seem _off_ to you? “

 

“Off?” Castiel leans back in his chair “Sam he’s a vampire- he seemed like a vampire. What does he have to do with the spell?” Castiel is not following the younger Winchester and they usually see things the same.

 

“Cas, I think he has a hold on Dean. Like he’s put some kind of whammy on him.” Sam leans forwards and folds his arms on the table top. “I’m worried about Dean”

 

Sam explains the situation with Amelia. He tells Cas how out of character Dean has been acting when it comes to the vampire and finally how it drove him to cast the revealing spell.

 

“I see,” Castiel says when he’s done. “Dean manipulated you to save him, is that it?”

 

“Yes- I mean no! “Sam thinks it sounds stupid when you put it like that. “He lied to me Cas! To protect a monster! He knows how much I still care about Amelia! What he did was cruel.”

 

“Sam, Benny saved his life. He helped Dean when I – when I … _couldn’t._ “ Castiel’s eyes are downcast and his aura is ashen as he talks about this. A lump forms in Sam’s throat when he senses guilt and gratitude so intense and exquisitely intermingled from the Angel across him.

 

“I know that. And I’m grateful for that -I really am.” He still has his own guilt simmering away over how he himself had failed Dean. Dean’s not bringing it up anymore, but he’s still hurt by Sam not working to bring him back that year. It’s in the air between them- every day.

 

“I get that. The guy knew a way out and he had his back- but come on- it was selfish of him too!” Sam leans back and rocks on the back legs of his chair for a second before he gets up to pace.

“He couldn’t get out without Dean- he just used him. And now-now he’s topside and unsupervised and we’re supposed to what? Just pretend that we aren’t letting a vamp do whatever he wants?”  He spins around and looks at Cas. “He killed a hunter Cas!”

 

“Dean said that was self-defense.” Cas intones, and he’s so calm it pisses Sam off all over again.

 

“Dean talks to you about him? You can’t tell me you trust the guy Cas?” Sam paces again.

 

“I am not his friend. He was- _covetous_ of Dean and I do not trust him. But he saved Dean. Dean trusts him and that is enough for me.” Cas sounds unwavering, his aura flashes brighter and for a split second the red chord pulses.

 

Sam stares. His mind is trying to pick something out that Cas just said but the reaction Cas’ being had is fascinating him and it slips away.

 

“I still do not understand. If you cast the spell to receive clarity over Benny why are you still afflicted? “Cas didn’t miss Sam’s staring. “Is Dean under his influence?”

 

“No. I mean not so far as I’ve been able to tell. This spell is something else man. And besides, we got kinda distracted when I saw your puppet strings.” Sam settles back in his chair.

 

“I see. Thank you for your help in that.” Castiel is staring at Sam, looking with his own extra senses, Sam can feel the probing grace.

 

“Of course, Cas. But Dean can’t know about this. You can’t tell him. I haven’t figured it out yet and he has to talk about Benny for me to get a good read. If he finds out that’s the reason I did this- he’s never gonna talk to me about it and I can’t be stuck like this.” Sam pleads.

 

“I do not like keeping secrets from Dean.”

 

“I know, me either man. But the spell is still here so I have got to be missing something. He doesn’t have an obvious sign like you did with Naomi -I guess I just have to try harder. But Cas there is something going on- or like you said it would have worn off by now.”

 

“You think Benny used a Chinese curse?” Cas says inclining his head to the research littering the table.

 

“Um yeah maybe. Just covering all the bases you know.” He feels the bile churning in his guts, he really hates lying to his best friend but he’s not ready to tell him about the string. Not so soon after Naomi and especially not till he knows more about it.

Castiel raises his left brow at Sam. He can sense the man is hiding something from him, whatever it is, it affects Dean, and Cas will get to the bottom of it. He needs to atone for his weakness. For how close he came to hurting Dean. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is part way done and sees some plot sneak in so thank you for reading as always! You guys are awesome- let me know if you're still out there! <3 seriously...anyone still reading?


	12. Sam Winchester Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days...yay procrastination. Who else hates writing application essays?

Sam spends a few more hours poring over his research. He’s running down the theory that the cord is symbolic of Yuè Lǎo the Chinese god. Legend has it that Yuè would tie a red string around the ankles of couples fated to marry or in earlier translations -people who were destined to meet for an important reason. The legend is obscure, and each book has a different take on it. Some surrounding cultures have their own version of it, Koreans tell of the string being around their wrists for example. Sam decided to follow the Chinese one down since it dates back the furthest and the particular cord he is interested in is around ankles. His brothers and his best friends’ ankles.

 

He thinks it might just be a visual representation of their “profound bond” as Castiel calls it but he needs to be sure. They had been destined to meet after all. Castiel saved the Righteous man from hell – it had all been foretold in prophecies, so a string of fate would fit.

 

He still needs to be sure that’s _all_  it is. He can’t have Dean and Cas being yanked around by something else.

 

He reads on about the “Old man under the moon” Yuè. There are many accounts of him showing a young child their future betrothed and many of them didn’t believe him. One boy threw a rock at the little girl in disgust and years later asked his wife why she had a scar on her brow. The story repeats itself in various forms across his stack of books. Nothing to note that there is danger in the binding or any ill will. It does become clear that no one has ever cheated their fate. He gets the impression that the matches were imperative, driven by some bigger picture he is missing.

 

At four he gives up and goes to his room.

 

 

Sam awakes abruptly. He sits up and squints against bright sunlight streaming in, it's warm and he gets the impression it's late in the morning. Then he starts- there are no windows in the bunker.

 

Alert now, he takes in his surroundings. He’s in a tent of some kind. Soft fabric drapes over a frame and rests on a sandy floor. Its’ warm, very warm and the air is dry. He looks down and sees that he was laying on a bed of soft mismatched pillows made of silk and other fine fabrics. He is wearing a delicate tunic. He gets up and walks over to the tent entrance and carefully pulls it back.

 

Across from his tent are others, pulled in a half circle around a large fire pit. He can hear people talking but he doesn’t understand the language. It’s rough and guttural but flows beautifully. He thinks it might be Arabic. The sun is high in the sky and he is most certainly in a desert. It must be at least a hundred and ten degrees; his brow is dripping sweat and his back feels sticky already. He is grateful for the lack of pants.

 

He sees movement in the corner of his eye and glances at the side of a large tent. There is a camel calmly walking towards a trough of some kind.

_Where the hell am I and how did I get here?_

 

He takes a deep breath to calm himself and decides that finding a weapon should be his first goal.

 

He turns around and tenses in surprise when he sees a woman standing a few feet away from him. He had not sensed her, and she was definitely not there when he had woken up. He steels himself for a fight.

 

“Samuel, it is good to finally meet you” her voice is warm and steady. Whatever she is, she is not afraid of him. Long white hair flows down her chest in loose waves. She is wearing a flowing robe that reminds Sam of the elves in Lord of the Rings. She is old, in the way stars are old.  She radiates command but it’s a calm gentle power, unlike anything he’s encountered. It’s how he imagined Angels being before he got to know them.

 

“We must speak,” she says, and she motions her graceful hand to a pair of pillows set beside a small fire. He can see a pot and small delicate cups on the low table next to it. The fire had not been there either.

 

“Who are you? And where am I?” Sam demands. He meant to sound imposing, but he’s so bewildered it comes out sounding more pleading.

 

“All in good time boy. Would you care for some Posca, it’s rather good?” She gracefully lowers herself to the pillow and pours the warm spiced wine into a cup.

 

“No thanks.” Sam can’t imagine drinking something warm in this heat and he begrudgingly sits down across from her. He finds himself trusting her instinctually even if the hunter in him remains wary.

 

“I am a Guardian. The last of my kind.” She says and takes a slow drink from her cup.

 

“Guardian of what exactly?” Sam asks, he has a million questions, but he will start with one.

 

“We guard the line. We protect it from those who seek to corrupt it, but it is time. The line is ending, and you are its final sentinel. As it was foretold so it shall be.”

 

“What line? What do you mean its’ ending?” Sam is suddenly anxious, he feels  _responsible_  for something- deep in his heart he knows she is telling the truth, but he has no idea about what.

 

“Come, there is much to see Son of Adam” She gets up so fluidly that Sam is sure she is floating, and then she pulls back the curtain and they are standing in the middle of a busy market.

 

“Where are we?  _When_  are we?” Sam has time traveled before, perks of being friends with an angel and he can tell this is real.

 

“This is Timnath or as they call it now Khirbet et-Tibbaneh. As for when- it is 1645 before the Christ child.”

 

“1645 BC are you serious?” Sam blurts out, going back to the Seventies seem like a cheap parlor trick compared to this.

 

“I am always serious Samuel.” The Guardian says in a tone that belies nothing  _but_  seriousness and, in that moment, she reminds him of Castiel when they first met, and he smiles.

 

“Yeah um, sorry about that. It’s just a lot you know.” He looks around the small crowd and takes it all in. There are men wearing robes and head covers busy trading or herding animals. He spots some women sitting around what appears to be an ancient well.

 

“She is why we are here.” The Guardian points a long steady finger at a figure walking up to the well. She is lithe, and her dark hair is adorned with colorful beads. There is a veil across her face and her feet are bare. She takes a seat next to the women and Sam catches a glimpse of her eyes. Gorgeous emerald green but so full of sorrow it stirs his heart for her.

 

He recognizes her.

 

She has been haunting his dreams ever since he cast this spell. Not so obvious that he’s really noticed but she has been there in the background every night. He had thought she might have been Naomi before he had seen her through the eyes of Samandriel and Cas.

 

He means to ask who she is but before he does a middle-aged man approaches her. His robe is rich and colorful, clearly a man of means. His broad shoulders flex as he separates from his group and comes to stand by the well.

 

“Woman, I am a weary traveler and I wish to lay with you “he grasps her arm roughly, his gruff manner offends Sam and he almost steps out to defend her.

 

“Watch. That is all we are here for.” The Guardians hand is gentle as she stops his movement, but there is power under her touch. If he tried to fight her she would best him.

 

“I require a goat.” The woman answers sounding sure and confident as she looks the man in the eyes. Her fingers delicately cover his large hand on her arm.

 

“Shelah!” the man gestures at a young man traveling with him. “My bag, boy.”

 

Sam watches as the older man pulls out a small bag secured with a bright cord. “My seal and a chord as surety” he hands her the items.

She reaches out with her other hand and firmly grips the walking staff he’d been using. She slides her hand down to where he is clutching it. “And this,” she says as she drops her arm letting her loose gown fall off her shoulder. The man's eyes latch on to her newly exposed breast and he nods.

 

They turn towards one of the tents together.

 

 

Sam wakes up covered in sweat with a sense of impending… _something_  that has his heart racing.

He goes to find Castiel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I am getting excited about this story again...it is definitely the biggest idea I've chased. It gets a little overwhelming when I think about it...Let me know what you think!


	13. Sam Winchester Researches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on a roll!

Dean wakes up just after sunrise. He’s not a morning person but he’s gotten his four hours in and instead of falling back asleep his bladder had forced him up. Getting older is for the birds. He curses under his breath the whole way- his dream had just been getting good. Elegant hands had pushed his boxers down and plump lips were working their way South when his internal alarm had sounded.

 

He heads to the kitchen to start the coffee when he’s done and smiles when he sees that Castiel had beat him to it.

_At least some things were going well._

The angel may not need to eat or drink anything- but damn can he make a cup of Jo. He knew it had been Cas because he always put Dean’s mug next to the pot when he makes it. If the guy had no other redeeming qualities Dean would still keep him around- it was _that_ good.

 

He takes his mug to the library hoping to run into the aforementioned angel for no real reason other than his company. The room is empty but there are books strewn over half the table. Notebooks and empty coffee mugs haphazardly sprinkled in between tomes. Dean’s not sure who was at it- he was the only non-nerd currently living in  _Casa De Bunker,_  so it was really any one of the others. He hates clutter though and sets about clearing away the dirty mugs.

 

His eyes skim over the titles – the ones in English- he’s puzzled about the  _Chinese lore_  theme he picks up. He wasn’t aware that the tablets were connected to anything oriental. The symbols on them may as well have been Chinese for all Dean could tell so he shrugs and goes back to the kitchen.

 

He’s halfway done making a huge stack of pancakes when a slightly ruffled looking Sam scurries in from the hallway. “Have you seen Cas?”

 

“Good morning to you too Mr. Manners.” Dean frowns down at the pan and flips the golden-brown cake.

 

“Dean, have you seen him? I need to talk to him” Sam says in the voice he uses when he is not in the mood. And Sam  _is_  a morning person, that makes Dean look at him as he moves the pan to a different burner.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing, I just need to run something by him.” Sam tries to blow it off which only makes Dean worry more. His concern unfurls in a rush and its way too early for Sam to be dealing with other people’s feelings- he’s really starting to hate this curse. “Look man I had a weird dream- I just wanted to ask him about it.”

 

“And what Cas is your palm reader now? He have a crystal ball I don’t know about?” Dean asks before he turns back to the stove, still radiating concern and mild irritation.

 

“Palm readers do not require a crystal ball,” Cas’ gruff voice says as he walks in heading right for the coffee pot to refill his cup. “Sam. Dean.” He greets after taking a sip.

 

“Hey, Cas. Sammy wants you to tell him what his dream meant last night. What was it, Sam? Was it R rated cause Cas can’t help you there?” Dean teases “Oooh Cas if his hair was falling out tell him it means he should get a haircut, or he won't ever get laid again!”

 

“Are you done?” Sam says flatly, not amused with Dean’s mocking.

 

“What did you dream about Sam?” Cas asks and takes a seat at the table when Sam sits down.

 

“Uh. It was weird- I don’t think it was a dream exactly. It was like a vision or something.” Sam starts, and Dean puts the breakfast on the table and joins them.

 

“You’re seeing things in your sleep now too? I thought this curse was supposed to be used up by now?” he demands, frowning at Sam. Dean's aura blends into Cas’ next to him and Sam can sense his brother's mood soften with the action.

 

He thinks of how to tell them about what he saw – he has no idea if it is connected to the spell or if it's about the tablets or something else entirely.

 

“Cas have you ever heard of the Guardians? They are old and can dream walk I guess, or time travel I’m not sure. They guard “The Line”.” Same asks the angel, angry at himself for not having anything more to go on. He doesn’t even know who the woman was he was sent to watch or what any of it meant.

 

“That’s a comic book, Sam, there’s a badass Raccoon and a tree and a few aliens and a guy with excellent taste in music,” Dean says around a mouthful of mostly syrup and some pancake.

 

“The Guardians, they are old. Far older than me. They exist outside time and space. They are agents of balance. I have not heard of them since the flood. Tell me what you saw.” Castiel leaned forward a fraction and was now squinting at Sam with his full attention. It always makes Sam squirm to be at the receiving end of that- he has no idea how Dean can stare back for minutes at a time and seem completely calm.

 

“I woke up in the middle east somewhere and she was just there, the Guardian. She showed me a young woman and said that she was why we were there. The Guardian said it was 1645 BC. I woke up before I got the woman's name.”

 

Sam fills them in on everything he saw. The exchange between the woman and the older man. The Guardian saying "the line was ending” and that Sam was "the final sentinel".

 "So, you saw an ancient hooker picking up a John? Heh- guess it really is the oldest profession" Dean says bumping his shoulder against Castiel's. 

“I wish I knew what this meant Sam. My knowledge of them is limited to the Flood, they had been angered when God rid the world of men save for Noah and his family. I believe there was some conflict between them- at least that was the talk among the garrison.” Castiel looks puzzled.

 

“Woah Woah- you mean the flood was REAL? No way you can fit two of everything on a boat!” Dean blurts out.

 

“It was a big boat,” Cas says looking at Dean and the corners of his mouth do that attempt at lifting that counts as his smile. Sam watches as Dean blushes, on his cheeks and his aura. He sneaks a peek under the table and the cord is pulsing brightly again- as he suspected.

 

___________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Sam falls asleep at the war table a few hours later. They had been researching the Guardians all morning and he hardly slept last night. Or if his intuition was correct he hadn’t slept at all.

 

Sam finds himself in the desert again. There is a light breeze and he is in a town this time. He turns and finds the Guardian at his side. She nods at him. “You have more to see Sentinel.” And she points out a crowd heading their way. “There will be answers soon.”

 

People are shouting- yelling out “Whore!”, “Harlot!” and other obscenities. He spots the woman from before being dragged through the crowd. She is dressed differently, and her face is uncovered but he recognizes her eyes, no longer sad, she looks defiant. Only she is very pregnant this time.

They toss her to the ground at the feet of a man. And Sam knows him too. It’s the rich older man who had promised her a goat. The crowd grows and surrounds them.

 

They start demanding “Stone her!”

 

The man raises his hand and they fall silent.

 

“What is the meaning of this?” he asks with all the authority of a man who is in charge.

 

“This woman is a prostitute! She is with child!” a man accuses and spits at the woman.

 

The man looks down at the woman and sees her swollen belly. “We shall burn her.” He says to the crowd with conviction and they cheer.

 

“What have you to say in your defense woman?” he asks her, sounding dispassionate. 

She points to a handmaiden carrying a parcel. The maid steps forward and the woman says in a clear voice: “I am pregnant by the man who owns these. See if you recognize them.”

 

She lays out a seal, a cord and a staff.

 

The mans' face turns ashen. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

After his unscheduled nap and some sandwiches, they enlisted the help of Kevin who wanted to take a break from the tablets. Sam updated them on the saga unfolding in the desert. The three of them are scattered around the library with a pile of texts on their respective tables. So far all they have was that they had learned from Castiel. Cas had gone up to heaven to see if he could find someone who might know more and to check on Naomi.

 

Sam had found a tome supposedly written by a fallen angel who chronicled the flood. Abner had mentioned that the Guardians had acted as intermediaries between God and the Old Ones. He had not been able to figure out what came of that or who the Old ones were.

 

“Guys I think I found something,” Kevin says plopping down a book between Dean and Sam.

“Great! Cause I ‘ve got bubkis” Dean says pushing his book away and leaning over.

 

“So, I was reading this historical account of the large region surrounding Canaan, which is in Israel today. That includes the place Sam told us about Timnah, and focusing on the time-

 

“Kid! Get the good stuff!” Dean interrupts before Kevin goes on a tangent.

 

“Oh yeah sorry. Anyway, there was a reference to Genesis chapter 38.” Kevin points down to the open Bible he has on the table. And he reads a section out loud.

 

_15 When Judah saw her, he thought she was a prostitute, for she had covered her face. 16 Not realizing that she was his daughter-in-law, he went over to her by the roadside and said, “Come now, let me sleep with you.”_

_“And what will you give me to sleep with you?” she asked._

_17 “I’ll send you a young goat from my flock,” he said._

_“Will you give me something as a pledge until you send it?” she asked._

_18 He said, “What pledge should I give you?”_

_“Your seal and its cord, and the staff in your hand,” she answered. So he gave them to her and slept with her, and she became pregnant by him._

 

“Sound familiar?” Kevin asks with a triumphant look when he’s done.

 

“The chick tricked her Father in law into knocking her up? Damn that’s like straight out of Dr. Sexy!” Dean says making a face of mixed horror and intrigue.

 

Sam grabs the Bible from Kevin “That’s exactly what I saw!” He reads more.

 

“Tamar was married to Judah’s son, then God killed him for being wicked. She married his brother as was the custom, but he refused to get her pregnant. So, she tricks Judah.”

 

That elicits a lot of commentary from Dean. "Dude- I would not be okay with marrying your widow either. Ick! Unless it was Sarah- she was hot!" 

Sam tunes him out.  

He reads the end of the story to himself and feels the blood drain from his face.

 

She gave birth to twin boys. During labor, Zerah stuck his hand out and the midwife tied a red string around his wrist to mark him as oldest. Then his brother Perez was born before him and became the first born.

 

Sam feels his skin break out in a cold sweat. This was not about Benny. Or tablets. This was about the red cord. The one tying Dean and Cas together.

 

What had the Guardian said?

 

 “ _The line was ending_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this! I swear it will all tie in and make sense... I know some of you expressed frustration but trust me its just a really big story and I am writing when I have time.


	14. Sam Winchester needs a drink

They hadn’t made any progress on the Guardian or what she was trying to show Sam for the last two days. Garth had called and sent them to Michigan on a case and they had run into Charlie of all people. There was cosplay and actual fairies that provided plenty of distraction from their current situation.

 

Charlie had, of course, roped them into joining the LARPing activities- “ _for the case_ ”. It had turned into a welcome break. Dean had thoroughly enjoyed himself and Sam was smiling constantly just basking in the emotions his brother was emitting. It did them good being silly for a change. The costumes were fun, and the mead was better.

 

Dean’s face was still smudged with war paint from his Braveheart reenactment when they got back to the bunker. His aura bright and his mood light.  The red chord was decidedly muted though and that troubled Sam.

 

He was still mulling things over. He knew he was going to have to have a serious talk with Dean and maybe even Cas soon. He hadn’t mentioned the cord or the nagging idea that it was the cause for all these vision quests. He still didn’t understand why the spell would have triggered this either- it had nothing to do with his original question no matter how he tried to force that to fit the puzzle.

 

He wished the Guardian would reach out again or that they’d catch a break- he felt like he was pushing his sanity to new limits. His mind hadn’t been this hard to focus since he’d had an imaginary friend in Satan. He almost missed those days- cause at least Dean knew it was happening. He hated lying to his brother.

 

 

“Guys, we found something. Why is your neck blue, Dean?” Kevin frowned at them when they entered the library.  Dean reached up and started wiping at his neck “Long story. What have you got?”

 

“Well turns out Tamar was kind of a big deal. She is a direct decedent of Christ. Through her first-born son. Perez. It looks like some pagan historians disagreed with that though- saying that Zerah was the true firstborn.” Kevin pages through his notes. “There was a big dispute about it back in those days. Being firstborn meant you got the inheritance, the family deferred to you as their leader and you pretty much called the shots. Jews would bestow a blessing of oils and prayer on the firstborn as a kind of rite to pass all that to the next generation. Pagans believed differently- they followed that the first baby to “breach into this world from the formless void of the before” was the first born and heir.”

 

“So, the twins caused some contention for the family’s estate planning? How is that our problem?” Dean asks as he plopped down onto a chair.

“Castiel has a theory- he thinks the birth of the twins and the fight over their birth order caused a problem with the bloodline. He’s asking some questions upstairs to verify.”

 

“The line is ending- as in  _bloodline_?” Sam says feeling worried-that can’t be good. And now he found himself doubting that the cord had anything to do with this. He needed an aspirin, he settled for pouring himself a tumbler of Dean’s whiskey. That got a worried look from Dean, but he didn’t say anything.

 

“So, the family tree is getting topped?  _Again_ \- our problem why?” Dean puts his feet up on the table earning a disapproving glare from Kevin who moves some books out of the way.

 

“That’s what we’re still working on. I mean the whole point of the lineage was to lead up to Christ being born, we’re not sure why it matters now?” Kevin says getting that look he gets when he is working a particularly difficult problem.

 

“I mean some lines are still important- isn’t that why we were the perfect vessels? Didn’t ole’ Zach tell us that we were like bred to be the Arch Angels meat suits?” Dean asks Sam.

 

“Yeah, he did. He made a big deal of it actually.” Sam’s brain tries to add yet another train to the mess of thoughts he has running around already, and he gulps down his drink in one go.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They have dinner- Dean made his special lasagna and they were all fighting the post indulging crash when Castiel shows up at the top of the stairs.

 

“Hey, Cas. Almost made it to the door like a civilized person.” Dean teases as he watches him descend.

 

“Hello, Dean.” He says when he stops in front of the hunter. Sam watches almost out of habit now as the cord flames bright as they get closer to one another. It wakes in him a sense of urgency – like he needs to figure it out- but it also makes him smile because he gets a sense of peace and contentment when it flares. He’s not sure whether to attribute it to the cord or to the two men who always seem to lighten when in each other’s company. Sam thinks its terribly sweet that his brother and his best friend share their burdens with each other on such a deeply spiritual level. He’s sure they aren’t even aware of it or Dean would no doubt find a way to tamp it down.

“Hello, Sam. Kevin” Castiel says as he finally tears his gaze from the eldest Winchester.

 

“Hey Cas, got any news for us? We’ve been coming up empty so please say you do?” Sam says only pleading a little. His head is killing him, all the psychic information bombarding his senses coupled with his anxiety over visions, tablets, power grabbing angles, and his brother is threating to send him back to the loony bin.

 

“I have some news. I am not sure if it will be of any help.” Castiel takes a seat between Kevin and Dean. “I spoke with Nathaniel he is one of heaven’s archivists although merely a junior. He was not in the inner circle when Tamar was alive he was posted in New Zealand at the time overseeing the evolution of a small subset of marsupials.” Dean makes a gesture with his hands telling Cas to get to the point. “He recalls there was a rumor about the bloodline being fractured. He’s not sure when but he thinks the story of this woman seems as likely as any. It caused great concern. There was talk of Prophecy being doomed but the Fates and Gabriel himself took over and corrected it.”

  
“Gabriel, Gabriel?” Dean asks, “Wasn’t he hiding out in Asgard?”

 

“He did not leave until much later,” Castiel replies slumping into his chair slightly. Dean’s aura reaches out towards the angel and they do that merging thing that they sometimes do. It always makes Sam feel like he’s seeing something private though he isn’t sure it is. He hasn’t seen either of them reach out to Kevin like that, but it hardly surprises him. Kevin is family, but he is still new, and he keeps himself guarded, his aura is always tightly controlled and rarely extends past his skin more than a few millimeters. In fact, the only time it really moves is when his mother is near. And Sam laments for the millionth time his inability to see his own psychic imprint.

 

“So, they fixed it?” Sam asks wondering why it would come up now if they did.

 

“Nathaniel says yes. But if it was split then a secondary line with the potential would have splintered off through the other son.” Cas adds.

 

“And what does that mean? That there is some family tree out there with God juice in its sap?” Dean asks managing to both get to the answer surprisingly fast and making it sound crass before Sam even had a follow-up question.

 

“Exactly,” Cas says sounding concerned.

 

“That doesn’t sound good. Or is it? I mean last time it lead to good things, right? Christmas and all that?” Kevin asks.

 

“I guess. But what the Guardian said- that it was ending. That sounds bad-right?” Sam adds as he gets up to pour another drink. This whole mess is turning him into Dean.

 

“I am not sure Sam. I was not aware that there was another line blessed by God himself.” Cas sounds concerned.

 

“I think I read about that- in the books that were on the table before we started looking for the guardians,” Kevin says starting to sound excited as he searches around the pile of books and paper scattered all over the giant table. He finds one and Sam gasps as he spots the title- Chinese Lore: A Men of Letter compendium for the Tang Dynasty

 

 _Oh shit oh shit oh shit._  Why didn’t he take those books to his room before they left?

 

“Chinese mythology?” Dean asks “You lost me, kid- I thought we were talking about Judeo Christianity here.”

 

“It’s history. Lore is like every story ever told but with each region putting its own spin on it. I mean there are stories of strong demigods -like Samson or Hercules in various cultures around the world. Or stories of Hell and Hades- different remakes of the same show. “Kevin is babbling as he pages through the large tome- looking for something.

 

“Mmm never really thought about it like that,” Dean says leaning back and shrugging as the kid keeps looking.

 

“Here!” Kevin yells out when he finds what he was looking for. Sam thinks he might need a third drink.

 

“There’s this story of this Chinese God  _Yuè Lǎo_. He was in charge of matchmaking. Of marriages.” Kevin says triumphantly.

 

“Okay. Still lost. What does an Asian Cupid have to do with anything?” Dean asks leaning forward with concentration etched across his features.

 

“He would tie a red string around the ankles of the betrothed,” Castiel says quietly. “It was a symbol indicating their destinies. It’s a form of ancient magic harnessing fate and older primordial forces. It’s been an age since I’ve heard of it. It was used to bind souls whose union was essential to the cosmic balance.”

 

“Okay- red ribbon ringing bells…” Dean says sounding frustrated.

 

“The midwife tied a red string around Zerah.” Sam says “And the great destiny went to Perez instead.”

 

He pours the third drink. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working on this for most of the weekend so hopefully, I will get a few more chapters out. Please hang in there if this confuses you- I didn't have time to reread everything before posting it to make sure continuity is 100% but I am trying. I swear things are coming together. Let me know if you're still out there...or if I am talking to myself at this point. <3<3<3


	15. Sam Winchester takes a trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't die or run off to join the circus. Just life... shrugs.

“The wrong kid got the inheritance?” Dean asks. “Big deal? It’s been like thousands of years. Why’s it matter?

“It was more than just an inheritance. It was the work of fate bringing the right lineages together to craft the Messiah.” Castiel says sounding breathless and confused.

“Exactly,” Sam says after putting his now empty glass down, his head is slightly muffled from the whiskey but not near enough.

“So, it went to the wrong son? But everything worked out in the end, right? I mean Christmas?” Dean says getting worried merely because Sam and Castiel seem worried.

“That was my understanding,” Castiel says, his aura is swirling, and Sam has to look away, the concern coming from the Angel is doing little for his own barely contained sense of doom. He can’t even decide why he feels that way. _“The line is ending”_ keeps echoing in his mind like some mantra from hell and he feels like he might scream.

“I guess it worked out since they were twins- I mean if you were going to mess up that would be the best case. They would have the same DNA, so it shouldn’t matter.” Kevin pipes in trying to be analytical about this.

“It is about souls, not just matter and genetics.” Castiel says “And souls are unique, no two are alike or ever will be.” He feels hot under his collar recalling Naomi telling him he now possessed one himself. He has not had any time to consider what that means or if it is true.

“Okay so the line got kinked, but you said Gabriel stepped in and patched it up?” Dean tries.

“He did. There would have been a considerable rearranging of destinies and close supervision of the line from then on. It might be why he disappeared shortly after the Crucifixion. It would have been an enormously tasking undertaking.” Castiel suddenly feels pity for his brother and it lessens the sting of betrayal he has always harbored for his abandonment of the host.

“But that means there is still the alternate branch flopping in the wind, somewhere, right? I mean that is what’s ending? Christ didn’t have children.” Kevin postulates.

“Why does it matter- if it was a mistake?” Dean counters. "It ending sounds like a good thing?“

"God does not make mistakes,” Castiel says automatically. It surprises him when he hears himself say it.

Dean snorts loudly in obvious disagreement and Castiel lowers his gaze feeling conflicted as he often does. His very nature does not allow for him to doubt- but since he met Dean he has done so more and more and now is convinced that they have been forsaken by God. From time to time his hardwired programming will kick in and make him say things like that. It makes him feel foolish. 

“I don’t know why it matters, just that it does. I mean the Guardian seems to think so. God, I wish I knew what the hell this all means!” Sam lets out in frustration getting a surprised look from everyone in the room. Dean’s worry hits him followed closely by Castiel’s interest and mostly irritation from Kevin. It suffocates him, and he needs to get out.

“I need some air.” He says and grabs the keys from the hook before storming out of the bunker.

* * *

 

Sam drives.

He has no destination in mind only that he needs to clear his head and be alone. It’s a relief only dealing with his own emotions and not being distracted by apparitions with mysterious meanings.

He has the window rolled down and the fall air is brisk only refreshing him further. He focuses on breathing deeply and slowly feels the tension leaks out of his shoulders for the first time since he got back from Texas. He hates himself for casting the stupid spell. It helped them save Cas, but the lingering effects are driving him mad. He’s not sure he can cope with the deluge of emotional and metaphysical information blasting him from every corner during his waking hours. Then only to face dreams filled with cryptic prophecy and intrigue. He’s almost past the point of caring about Benny – it all seems so insignificant now. He resents the urgency that underlies everything- he doesn’t even know what he’s worried about.

“The line is ending” comes to him unbidden for the millionth time. He shakes his head and grips the wheel tighter.

The sun is low on the horizon when he starts to focus on the scenery. The headlights of the Impala bounce of a sign declaring the “Exit 204 Lawrence”.  

His surprised gasp is loud in the relative quiet of his own company. He’d taken no direct route, turning and merging without thought. He hadn’t even realized he’d been driving for almost four hours. Now here he is, where it all started. This can’t be a coincidence.

He takes the exit and less than twenty minutes later he finds himself in front of an empty lot. It’s overrun with ragweed and kudzu, dried leaves rustle in the breeze as he gets out. He stands on the curb staring at the hole in the neighborhood. He knows there used to be a white double story house with a small porch on it. It’s been demolished for years- he knows. They’d returned to rid it of a poltergeist some years ago. But then Bobby had told them of a tornado that touched down and ripped it to pieces. The houses on either side coming away unscathed. The crumbling remains of the chimney are all that indicates it used to be there.

Sam swallows down a ball of anguish. He finds himself wondering “ _what if_ ”.

What if yellow eyes had left him alone. Would Mary and John be sitting on the porch drinking Arnold Palmers? Maybe talking about Sam out in California? Wondering when they’d see Dean and the grandkids again?

He hates their lives sometimes.

Just as he’s about to turn and get back in the car a familiar voice says, “ _What ifs_ ’ never solved a damn problem- and neither does feeling sorry for yourself!”

Sam spins around and is at a complete loss for what to say as he stares at the woman.

“Close your mouth boy- you’ll catch flies.” She clicks her tongue and shakes her head at him “What have you boys gone and done now?”

“Missouri.” He finally gets out as her arms wrap around him in a warm hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay and the short chapter. I went through the whole thing- cleaned it up, fixed some continuity errors and it took all afternoon. I plan to write more tonight and some tomorrow so feedback will be greatly appreciated and motivational! <3


	16. Sam Winchester gets a talking-to

Sam’s sitting on the same worn couch he and Dean once shared in what feels like a different life. He isn’t even surprised that she had found him. Missouri is making tea in her small kitchen and he’s left taking in all the knick-knacks and family photos on her walls. She hasn’t given off any psychic clues since he ran into her. He gets a distinct impression that it's intentional.

 

She walks back in with a tray holding two dainty cups and a steaming pot. She has a little pile of lemon cookies on there too and Sam’s stomach growls. He didn’t exactly stop for dinner along the way.

 

“Eat up boy. We got a lot to talk about and I don’t wanna have to yell over that racket.” She takes a seat opposite him and gives him a look that says its not up for discussion.

 

“Um, yes M’am.” Sam grimaces and puts three cookies on his saucer before lifting the cup out of the tray.  

 

“You can call me Missouri, you ain't a baby no more.” She chides taking her own cup and sipping on the tea.

 

“Yes, M’am,” Sam replies, he remembers this woman and there is no way on God’s green earth that he is going to call her by her first name, she is way too scary for that.

 

“I can see you’ve come a long way. I’m sorry about your father, he was a good man. And Bobby too, he used to get grease stains on everything, but he had a good heart. “Missouri says giving him that same look of sympathy she did all those years ago when Jess was still a fresh wound.

 

He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just nods and purses his lips. He picks up a cookie, so he doesn’t have to say anything.

 

“This mess though is a whole other level of crazy. It’s like you Winchester boys are lightning rods for the supernatural.” She shakes her head at him in an odd mixture of sympathy and annoyance.

 

“Don’t we know it.” He says looking at her for any clue about what she knows or can see.

 

“You can cut that out- ain’t gonna catch me unawares. I know what you’ve gone and done, and that don’t work on me.” She chides him. It’s a welcome break being in the company of someone who is not broadcasting at him. It’s peaceful.

 

“You can hide from the spell? How do you do that?” Sam asks, there’s no point in lying to this woman, she could always see through all the crap.

 

“I’m a psychic boy. I’ve dealt with the unseen my whole life, its no big thing teaching myself to close it off. “she leans back in her chair and takes a hard look at him and it makes him squirm in his seat.

 

“You've really gone and opened the flood gates now, haven’t you. That spell was meant for civilians, you already had powers. Strong powers- you must be seeing the earth’s magnetic field? I bet you about ready to lose your mind?” she asks with some concern.

 

“You have no idea.” He lets out on a breath.

 

“ I ought to smack you. I can see why you did it, you boys are worse than your father was with communicating. But that went and tapped into your potential and now you have real problems.” She is looking at him with that look that means she is looking through him, into his mind. 

 

"My potential?" he asks scared of what that could mean.

 

"Yeah Sam, you've always had the gift. Don't you remember why you were here last- it was because you could _see_ , even back then. You've always been able to see" 

 

“Yeah, can you _see_ anything else? Do you know what’s happening?”  Sam asks, getting excited at the idea of figuring out this mess.

 

“I told that brother of yours that I ain't’ a magic eight ball, I can only read your thoughts and energy. I can’t read him and the other one by talking to you.”

 

“The other one?” Sam asks wondering who she means.

 

“The pretty Angel. He’s all mixed up in this. The both of them. They have big things to do. I have to say I’m surprised. That brother of yours has grown a lot since I last saw him.”

 

“What do you see? What do they have to do?” Sam is feeling that urgency that has been haunting him build in his chest.

 

“I can’t say. I would have to read them. I’m just telling you what I’m getting from you. So, what are we still doing here- you going to invite me to the secret clubhouse or what?”

 

* * *

 

Dean convinced Cas to watch a movie with him after Sam stormed out like a princess. He’s worried about his brother; this spell seems to have backfired and he isn’t sure how much longer Sam can handle it. Cas even tried to get rid of it with his mojo but it was a bust.

 

He really doesn’t get why everyone seems so worried about this chick back in the desert and her baby drama. The world seems relatively stable to him at the moment- they still have the tablets to figure out, but no one is actively out there trying to end everything. So, he tries to take his mind of his constant worry for his brother with spaghetti westerns, junk food, beer and his best friend. It’s a winning combination that works every time.

 

He usually hates it when people talk during movies, but Cas is hilarious, his dry commentary about inaccuracies and his confusion about the cheesy plots are often more entertaining than the actual film. It’s one of his favorite pass times and it makes him feel like he’s just a regular guy hanging out with his weird friend. It soothes something in his chest that he doesn’t look at too hard.

 

“She would be unlikely to survive childbirth in those circumstances, that was more blood than a human could live without” Cas pipes up and draws Dean back into the present. “Come on man, that was sweet how her hero got to deliver the baby, it’s a bonding moment don’t ruin it.”

“It is also unlikely that a man of his profession would stay and help raise a child that is not his” Cas replies unphased.

 

“Geeze Cas you’re such a romantic.” Dean teases. “Besides not all guys are assholes like that.”

“I know. You are not.” Cas looks at him with soft eyes and Dean knows’ he’s referring to Ben, but they don’t talk about that. Ever.

 

“Whatever. Want a beer?” he says getting up from the couch suddenly needing some space. He always feels a strange itch under his skin when Cas looks at him like that.

 

“Yes, thank you”

 

Dean walks out to the kitchen and passes Kevin in the library hard at work. The kid decided that he’d take a break from research by doing research. “How’s it going?” Dean shoots across the table.

 

“I translated a few sentences on the tablet- it’s not making any sense though. But maybe it will once its all done.”

 

“Need anything from the kitchen?” Dean asks it doesn’t look like the kid’s taken a break in a while.

“No, I’m good. My mom went out to pick up some Thai food. She should be back soon.” And with that, he dives right back into his notes.

 

 

* * *

 

The drive back to Lebanon is awkward. Missouri can see through all Sam’s posturing and she has him start at the beginning. She is not impressed with his reason for casting the spell but can sense that he was genuinely worried about this vampire. She tells him that if she picks up on anything fishy when she sees Dean she’d let him know so that he might get rid of the spell sooner. She asks a lot of questions about his dreams and the woman who is visiting him in them.

 

“I’ve never met an Angel before. I’ve gotta be honest I am a little nervous.”

 

“Oh, Cas is cool. He’s not like the rest of them.” Sam tries to reassure her- thinking back to when he first learned Dean was talking to an angel and how awed he’d been. Now when he thinks of Cas and he pictures the guy making coffee in their kitchen, watching bad movies with Dean on the couch and sitting in the back seat. Then his brain flashes with his memories of peeking inside Castiel and it’s a contradiction. The ancient power, the unfathomable being that is their friend. It's such a paradox it makes his head hurt and his vision go spotty.

 

“Uh huh. That was a lot a confusion you just sent my way. And keep your eyes on the road boy- I don’t want to end up in a ditch.” She looks out at the road and watches the headlights for a few minutes.

 

“He and your brother share a deep connection, I haven’t even seen them yet and it’s the strongest sense I’ve ever picked up on.”

 

Sam can’t help the small pang of jealousy that flares up for the briefest moment and then he scolds himself “Yeah, Cas calls it a "profound bond".” he huffs out.

 

“Boy stop feeling all green about it. It’s not anything to be jealous of, their fates are twisted together and what they have ahead of them is nothing to wish for.”


End file.
